Merciful Dreams
by Peacebunnie
Summary: Kenshin wakes with full knowledge of Kiyosato and Tomoe before he ever sees them. The future has changed. Welcome to the war. Rated for violence
1. April 1864: All My life

Three samurai, late at night, two as bodyguards. The first two falling fast; the last, determined to live. A stab through the neck, a twist and a flower from the red snow of them, coating the ground. A job he performed suitably and still came away from marked.

Washing his hands, again and again. The bleeding scar. Iizuka's superstition. The taste of blood becoming almost ... appealing.

A bar, a woman that smelled like white plums, and overgrown thugs that were easily scared away. An assassin with chains that killed them, and tried for him as well. The rain of blood, startled - the woman, a witness, who fainted into his arms. Trying to sneak her past Okami. Flustered.

Confusion. Upset, uncertain how to deal with this very odd girl and her unconventional ways.

The most embarrassing breakfast at the inn, ever, as the lot of them tried to pry for details. Katsura being a little too laid back, then tense as the report involving another assassin was given.

Tomoe's refusal to leave, and her accusations leaving no time for any counter. Strong frustration.

Several weeks of avoiding, and sharing the one refuge. A job, bringing back a new and old tension. Washing his hands, again and again.

Rage, and fear, as he awakes and almost kills her. A promise, and a promise returned.

The Ikeda-ya raid. The battle, the fires, more than a month later. Katsura sending them off, Tomoe accepting his proposal.

Months filled with a newly learned happiness, a quiet living, until Iizuka's news of the war. Playing with the children, carefree one last time. The arrival of Enishi. Tomoe opening up to him, telling the story of her past. A vow.

Cruel news from Iizuka, shattering the peaceful air completely. Battles, fights against well trained men in an area where ki cannot be sensed. Wounds, explosions, half deaf and blind. Being beaten into the ground, fighting desperately in the hope of saving Tomoe no matter what.

Tragedy of the worst sort, Tomoe saving him at the cost of her own life, dead by his own blade, a new scar cut, bleeding out crimson on the white snow, smiling at him, no no no Tomoe please -

Kenshin shot up, his eyes tracking around the room, his breathing harsh. His heart rate slowed as he found no threat, and he raised his left hand to his unscarred cheek, his expression horrified.

"Oh my God," he said.

* * *

Merciful Dreams  
Chapter One Soundtrack: All My Life - Foo Fighters

* * *

Tossing the blanket away, he leaned his elbows on his knees and rested head in hands. For several minutes, all he could do was breathe, in an attempt to understand what was going on.

It was real. It was a dream, but somehow, it all felt real. He had been sure he was living it until he awoke. It was close to being one of the most disturbing things he'd ever experienced.

And as there was nothing he could do about it now, there was no point in lazing about. It was morning; as he had not worked the night before, he would be expected to appear downstairs if he wanted to eat. Standing up quickly, pausing a moment to steady himself, he quickly went to dress.

He almost haphazardly threw on his clothes, exercising care only when he picked up his sword. He stared at it for a long moment, then slowly pulled it close. He needed to get moving or someone might start asking questions, and he was in no condition to provide answers.

Barely remembering to close the door as he left his room, he wandered down. Like a well controlled puppet, Kenshin made his way to the dining room, ignoring the sudden drop in conversation and the mutters he wasn't supposed to hear. Dropping to his knees at a spot near the wall, he stared off into empty space.

One of his braver compatriots chanced to watch him curiously out of the corner of his eye. After several minutes, when it became clear the redhead was truly rattled by something, he scraped together his courage. "Hey. Something go wrong?"

Kenshin turned his face to him, and the hollow, blank expression on his face scared the man out of any further bravery. Kenshin watched him unconcernedly for a while, then turned back to staring ahead. He barely noticed when breakfast arrived, and he didn't register any taste as he mechanically ate.

Nothing of notice occurred until he left the room, and Iizuka caught him in the hallway. Kenshin was first shocked at his appearance, and then had to work hard to keep from slicing him in half as he remembered his dream. There was no way to catalog the many reasons listening to a dream was idiotic, no matter how real it had been. He had to remain calm, placid.

"Hey, Himura! Another job for you, tonight. Should be easy." Iizuka smirked, in a way Kenshin had always found disconcerting, and he found himself hard pressed not to slap the man, or do anything to get him to leave. "Not that it ever isn't, for you. We'll leave at nine." Iizuka squeezed his shoulder, and Kenshin tensed even as the man let go and continued down the hall.

Gazing after Iizuka, Kenshin pulled out the black envelope that had been tucked into his sleeve. He unfolded it, and suddenly felt very, very sick. The name in the envelope, impossibly, read 'Shigekura Juubeh.'

He staggered, reeling across the hall because he knew that name. Catching himself against a wall, he steadied himself, barely able to breathe. It was all too much. Running down the hall, he fled the inn.

He dashed along the side streets, running, running, trying to escape the confusion that roiled within. He ran nonstop until he reached the edge of the city, collapsing under a small bridge. He caught himself on hands and knees, the back of his mind absently noting he was alone. After several moments, he crawled to the stone foundation and curled against it.

He pulled the black envelope out of his sleeve - When had he put it there? He didn't remember - and stared at it. Was it real? Was everything in that dream real? Shigekura - tonight, with Kiyosato as a bodyguard, was to be murdered. Would he be able to do it? He remembered knowing in Otsu that if he didn't continue killing, didn't finish the war, all the lives he had taken were for naught. That still - already - applied. He had to kill them.

But what of Kiyosato? Would he be able to kill him? Should he kill him? He would be a witness, and so his death would be assured by one blade or another. And that fate would bring Tomoe to Kyoto, her brother following behind.

Oh God. Tomoe.

The thoughts suddenly too much, he staggered up, locking his emotions away for the moment. Dusting himself off and tucking the envelope away, he left his hiding place, to circle around the city until he hit upon his favorite secluded place to practice.

The people he passed on the way were going about their business, loud and boisterous as always, as if nothing had changed it all. He studied them, wondering that they did not feel it, did not understand that everything was suddenly different from what it was, what it was supposed to be. Vendors peddled their wares, children ran while an exasperated mother tried to catch them, a young man bought flowers for his sweetheart. Kenshin hurried his steps.

Twenty minutes later he encountered his practice space, and verifying his hair was well secured, methodically began the first practice forms of the Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu. Emotionless, he lost himself in the kata.

He ran through one after another, forcing himself to practice and perfect every thing he knew. The near mindless repetition was soothing, and when he looked up again it was late afternoon. If he wanted anything other than breakfast that day he'd have to hurry back soon. He sheathed his sword, swiped his bangs out of his eyes and started walking.

When he made it back to the inn, Okami and the kitchen girls were scrambling to get dinner prepared. He passed them, entering through the back, and made straight for his room.

He had forgotten to fold his futon, he noted as he crossed to a corner. He pulled his top from behind a few books he'd left in here, and sat against them. He spun the top, and as he watched it spin he realized he was sitting by himself again, much as he had returned to after Tomoe's death. Snatching up the top, he went right back down to the kitchen.

He sat himself out of the way there, and though Okami eyed him oddly she said nothing at the expression on his face. He spun the top again, trying to calm his thoughts and make some decision.

"Himura-san?"

Kenshin looked up, realizing he had been spinning his top for quite some time. He nodded lightly to Okami in acknowledgment.

"Dinner is being served, Himura-san," she continued, a touch of curious worry in her eyes.

Kenshin realized the two kitchen girls were gone, serving dinner no doubt; he was alone with Okami and he hadn't even noticed. Such distraction was dangerous. He was going on a mission; he could not afford such distractions.

"Thank you, Okami-san," he murmured, and got to his feet, top disappearing into his shirt. He hurried out with Okami's concerned gaze following him.

He entered the eating area, picking a spot away from the others and sat to eat, ignoring the eyes studiously not looking in his direction. Dinner, for him, was a near silent affair, the only sounds he paid attention to the clicking of chopsticks and the noise of men chewing.

He left as soon as could, having barely eaten anything. He couldn't stomach it. He hesitated in the hall; he still hadn't come to any decision, and didn't know what to do. The only thing clear at this point was that the assassination had to be carried out. But Kiyosato would be there, and the dilemma remained. And not to mention what to do about Iizuka.

A loud laugh came from inside the eating area, and brought Kenshin back to reality. Any moment someone else could come out, and he was standing in the hall staring off into space. He didn't need for someone to think he was insane - he was having enough trouble keeping himself convinced he was fine. Another quiet corner was called for, the kitchen and dining room were out of the question, and he didn't feel like staying in his room for the several hours until the assignment. Maybe some sake would clear his head.

It wasn't quite dark yet, and that made things all the more dangerous. In the dark it was sometimes difficult to see, but get the setting sun in your eyes and you were blinded completely. He stuck to traveling a route parallel to the local main street, keeping a sharp eye out around corners and down alleys. It was also more dangerous because it was still light enough to see his hair, and late enough that a hitokiri such as himself might conceivably be about.

As he turned the last corner, he felt a slight twinge as he sighted his destination. He was back at the restaurant after so many months away from a drink before every job. And still he'd traveled here without thought.

Kenshin shook his head at himself as he crossed the street. He had not been away from Kyoto for months; he'd only been to here several times, not made a habit of it. Not yet, anyway.

Fulfilling his propensity for corners, he seated himself at a far table with a clear view of the door and a fair path to the kitchen for escape. When the serving girl came by he ordered sake, and after its arrival he downed a cup in one swallow.

He forced himself to hide his wince as the coppery taste of blood slid across his taste buds and down his throat. It would help steady the nerves when it was down, but getting it there was awful. He observed the other patrons as he poured another cup and sipped it, slowly.

By the door there were a pair of men, who by their dress and furtive glances were likely thieves. In this time of war many might think them spies with their lack of caution, but Kenshin could sense a lack of focus in their ki that bespoke no formal training in anything whatsoever. Probably carried a knife or two, but only street thugs.

In the middle of the room, a man and a woman, apparently a couple, were trying to enjoy dinner on a budget. They were dressed too high class for the place; maybe they had come from the play house or some other upscale location. Various other people, mostly men carrying swords, were imbibing as well.

He observed for a while longer, then stood, leaving payment on the table. He headed out to get back to the inn in time for the assignment.

When he arrived there was still half an hour until they were to leave, so he leaned against the wall by the door to wait. His even stare and motionless frame unnerved quite a few men coming and going. Slowly those who would accompany him began to gather.

Iizuka was the last to arrive, sliding up in his typical oily manner. Kenshin resisted the urge to fetch his wakizashi and plunge it into what little there was of the man's heart. He couldn't just off him without proof. Iizuka could be trailed until he gave himself away, if he had turned at this early date. Killing him could wait. The night's job would not.

"All here, eh? That's good. Let's go." Iizuka led them out of the inn. The men followed. Kenshin stayed to the back, raising the hackles of the group in front of him as he began to radiate inhuman efficiency.

They ghosted through the dark streets, continuing toward where the target would be located. When Kenshin was suddenly in front of them, holding up a hand, they stopped. Scattering to find places to hide, the men disappeared as Kenshin continued on.

One turn left, around a building to the right, another turn left. They were fortunate. The target and bodyguards were far down the street. Outwardly calm, Kenshin silently walked behind them.

His heart was racing. 'Oh God ...'

He forced his face to remain calm as he felt anguish. The lives I have taken will be meaningless if I do not continue to see the revolution through.

Closer now, he could see them clearly, and paused for a moment as the younger guard was illuminated briefly in the moonlight.

'Kiyosato ...' He was right there. Kenshin forced himself to step forward, and crushed a vibrant blossom that had settled upon the ground.

He could hear them. They were talking about hitokiri. They were worried about hitokiri. Kenshin felt sick.

The talk moved onto an upcoming marriage, and Kenshin faltered again. He couldn't do it. He couldn't.

He had to. He resumed his silent walk behind them. As they continued talking he steeled himself, his eyes narrowing along with his focus to the men before him. He took a breath.

"You must be Shigekura Juubeh. Though I bear no grudge against you, for the sake of the new era, I must have your deaths."

The larger bodyguard eyed him sharply, assessing. "Who are you?"

Kenshin said "Choshu Ishin Shishi. Himura Battosai," with no small amount of disdain. The nameless bodyguard reached for his sword, and Kenshin sliced him before he could draw. In a hurry to get it over with, he leapt into the air, stabbing through Shigekura from above.

That left Kiyosato. Kenshin turned to him, and an option occurred. If he surrendered, he could leave before the others arrived, and Kenshin would not add him to the blood on his hands this night. Kiyosato was crying out the names of his late companions, shocked. His eyes turned to Kenshin.

It was possible Iizuka's group had worked their way closer. He needed at least a pretense of a fight, in case they watched. Kenshin swung at him, lightly enough for Kiyosato to block. Kenshin struck again, knocking Kiyosato back against a wall, holding bloody sword to his neck.

"Give up," Kenshin suggested softly. He could explain it to Katsura, somehow. Let Kiyosato walk away. He prayed with all the pieces of his tattered soul that the man would take this way out, that his will to live would bring Kiyosato to walk away from the encounter alive.

It wasn't enough.

A wild determination entered Kiyosato's eyes, and Kenshin inwardly cursed, thoughts again chaotic. The man refused to believe he could walk away from an assassin. He pushed Kenshin back, and swung.

Hit for hit, the supposed fight between swordsmen continued, Kenshin focused on holding back and hard pressed to defend the blows with a wild, desperate strength behind them.

He was getting annoyed with the man. Why wouldn't he take the way out presented to him? He could just leave! He could go back to Tomoe!

With that thought, Kenshin's feelings were thrown back into turmoil, and he almost met his end at Kiyosato's blade. His eyes widened briefly he threw himself out of the way, and the world became only target and obstruction as he locked his heart away.

He struck the man, and though he cried out, Kiyosato kept coming. Again he was hit, and again he came, he wouldn't die. Kenshin changed stances and went for a final strike, and as he leapt he remembered why he was hesitant; but it was too late.

Even as shock shown on Kenshin's face, Kiyosato made a mark as he himself was sliced across his stomach. Kiyosato landed face down, and tried to drag himself towards one of the flowers littering the street. Kenshin put a hand to his bleeding cheek, then looked at it in wide eyed horror. Kiyosato groaned behind him, and Kenshin was filled with dread as he realized what he had done and what he had to do.

" I ... no, I ... don't want to die," Kiyosato moaned. "I was ... finally going ... to marry her. I've always ... loved ... To-"

Sickened, unable to stand it, Kenshin plunged his sword through the older man's neck, twisting it to make sure he was immediately out of pain. He stared down at the corpse, desolate, and prayed for the man's soul.

In front of his out stretched hand there lay a flower. It was the least left he could do, and he placed it on the man's body. He was still staring when his fellow soldiers came from a near alley.

He had to act normal. They couldn't suspect, not yet. Iizuka couldn't suspect; he would know when the time came, oh how he would know.

One man glanced at him warily, unsure of how to deal with a bloodthirsty hitokiri that had sated his thirst. "We're here to see," the man said, as if his role might have been forgotten, as if he would fall next under that cursed blade if he was not labeled ally.

Kenshin schooled his expression and turned to them. "Inspectors," he acknowledged, trying to put them at ease, "good work." He tried to keep sarcasm from his tone, and mostly managed.

Iizuka looked at him, and his shock was clear. "Your cheek!"

Kenshin looked at the man, remembered betrayal and annoyances and a superstition that was true, and growled out, "It's nothing."

Iizuka raised an eyebrow. "But he managed to strike you with a sword ... he must have been very good."

Kenshin stared at him. Was that jealousy in his tone? "No." He pretended to glance at Kiyosato's body and turn away with disdain, but he couldn't bring himself to see again and snubbed the pavement instead. "His skill itself was nothing," here Iizuka's other brow joined the first, "but his will to live was incredible." Kenshin needed to leave. He was going to kill the man now and cause problems. "I'll leave the rest to you." He turned and walked.

He'd killed him. He'd killed him. God. His gaze shot back, catching the edge of Kiyosato's feet, no farther.

"May you find happiness in the afterlife," he said softly.

One of the men looked up. "What was that?"

Kenshin's gaze turned to him for just a moment, then away. "No, nothing," he said, and left.

As behind him the others left the papers declaring 'Heaven's Justice,' Kenshin became lost in thought. He'd hesitated, he'd tried to do otherwise, but in the end he'd still killed Kiyosato.

He remembered and reminded himself that there was already blood on his hands - to have acted otherwise would make the ending of those lives useless.

'At least,' he thought bitterly, 'this will bring Tomoe to Kyoto,' and he hated himself for having the thought.

* * *

I tried for one page a day. Pfft yeah right, that's gonna work. I forgot how essentially lazy I am. I am such a cat - I might like it, but if it doesn't hold my interest right then I ain't gonna do it. I'd rather take a nap.

So obviously this is an 'I'm gonna update when I update' fic, it is not finished ahead of time like the last one, ain't happenin'. It's really too bad. Anyone who likes grammer, has obsessive attention to detail and spelling want to beta read? Anyone?

**8.26.05: It was the typo that was driving me mad, but assuming the site is working it's fixed now. Yay!**


	2. May 1864: Outside

In the weeks following Kiyosato's death, Kenshin became numb again. He had destroyed the first option (he refused to think murdered), so now all that was left for him to do was wait, continue on, and think about how he was going to handle things.

The assignments continued, coming one after another. If he remembered correctly, there would be a break after Tomoe arrived. He'd need the peace; everything else would be complicated enough. It already was, actually, as his scar rarely stopped bleeding. As if things weren't bloody enough.

Kenshin had been out until nearly dawn the night before, completing several assassinations. He had washed his hands after returning to the inn, but not enough, disappearing to his room just before Okami and her girls were awake. Now that they were doing the afternoon cleaning, though ...

He plunged his hands into another bucket of cold water, and started scrubbing. It wasn't enough - the smell of dead blood wouldn't come off. No one else seemed to notice, but he couldn't stand it. The scent of death and murder always upon his hands - Kenshin shuddered and scrubbed harder. 

He heard footsteps, coming closer to the room. They stopped outside, and Iizuka opened the door, poking his head in. "Hey, Battosai, there you are. Come on. Hurry. Katsura's waiting." Kenshin nodded sharply, glaring at the name, and pulled his hands from the tub. He grabbed a cloth, dried his hands, then tossed it to a ledge and followed Iizuka to the courtyard. Katsura and Katagai were waiting.

"It's been a while since we've had a chance to meet," Katsura said in greeting. "Are you doing well?"

Kenshin nodded to him, seeing the humor in what he was about to say and not caring. "Yes. I'm doing them in very well."

Iizuka shot him a glance. "Hey hey, watch it."

Kenshin dismissed him, focused on Katsura, and a little annoyed. "What is my assignment tonight?"

Katsura raised an eyebrow. "Well, it isn't strictly an assignment ..."

Forget little, he was annoyed. If even Katsura wasn't focused on his own work ... "If it isn't an assignment I'd prefer you didn't call me."

Iizuka was beginning to sweat, Kenshin noted absently. "Hey!" The man shouted. Kenshin decided to remind them of something.

"I've assassinated nearly a hundred people in the last six months. No matter how well we hide, the shogunate is noticing we're here. It isn't good for me to be near the Choshu Hantei. The Bakufu are growing stronger every day, especially the wolves of Mibu ..."

Katsura frowned thoughtfully. "The Shinsengumi ..."

Kenshin continued. "We haven't yet fought, but they could be the strongest of the Bakufu."

Katagai snorted. "The Shinsengumi? What could that group of idiots -"

Katsura cut him off. "I understand. We'll keep an eye out."

"Well, about the assignment," Iizuka prodded.

Katsura glanced at Iizuka, the turned back to Kenshin. "Actually, during tomorrow night's festival, there's a secret council to be held in a certain place. Toshiwara and Miyabe are expected to attend."

Kenshin said flatly, "You need a bodyguard." This was a stupid discussion. A total waste of time. And besides, Tomoe would be coming soon, and he ... ugh.

"Well, no." Katsura eyed him, trying to gage his response. "I was wondering if you would join us."

Iizuka began to gush, but Kenshin cut him off immediately. "I decline. It's easier if I keep to the shadows. And I'm not interested in honor or history. If we achieve a new age where all can live in peace, that's enough." He turned and headed back inside to clean the wash room. He could use some sake to clear his head. After dinner would be good.

* * *

Merciful Dreams  
Chapter Two Soundtrack: Outside - Staind

* * *

Dinner went quickly, once again barely acknowledged as he contemplated. Tomoe would be here soon. He wasn't sure how he was going to handle it, or when exactly she would come. He supposed he would deal with it when it happened, as he could do nothing else. 

When he had eaten all could manage, he headed upstairs to grab an umbrella and jacket. It had started drizzling during dinner, and he had never liked rain since meeting Tomoe. He wandered outside, lost in thought and going slowly. Halfway to his destination, he tensed. When the chained sword sliced his umbrella in half, he was no longer there.

The large assassin stepped into the street. "Hitokiri Battosai."

Kenshin just stared at him. "What?"

The assassin sneered. "Play the innocent all you like, but I know you. I have been waiting here to take your life!" He threw another of his chained swords at Kenshin, who knocked it out of the way as he dodged. The fight began, ripping up several walls as it proceeded down the street.

It ended before too long; the assassin caught Kenshin in chains as leapt to the roof, and screaming "Prepare yourself!" he leapt at Kenshin, who promptly sliced him in half with one of his own swords. Kenshin loosed himself as quickly as possible, eyes darting every which way. There was no one else present. Where was she? Was it too early? Was it the wrong day somehow? Was she still at the bar? He tore off his bloody jacket and threw it onto the body, and bolted for the restaurant.

As he came close, he heard a man bellow as he crashed to the floor, and Tomoe came running out the door. She ran almost into his arms, and he reached out and caught her. She whipped around to look at him wide eyed, and her expression changed to shock as she saw his face and hair. Kenshin looked back at her, grim. "They're attacking you?"

She just looked at him as two thugs came barreling outside. They skidded to a halt with their prey in sight. "Hey lookit that," one leered, "right here for us. Boy, let go and get out of the way."

Kenshin glared, and the second man wisely stepped back. The first pulled his sword. "I wouldn't do that, if I were you," Kenshin warned, a thread of anger in his voice.

The first man sneered. "You're getting in the way of a friendly little drink, ain't that right, you see? Let her go."

Kenshin let go and stepped forward, drawing his sword with a disturbing smile on his face. "If you want to fight me, I'll oblige you, though it will end in your death." The thug charged him with a yell, and was calmly gutted. His body fell beside Tomoe, splattering her with blood as she stood frozen. The other man screamed and ran down an alleyway. 

Kenshin turned to Tomoe, and she fainted right into his arms. Startled, he just managed to catch her, then leaned her against his side. He regarded the man trying to escape. Well, since she was out ... and he didn't recall them lasting the evening anyway ...

He quickly wiped his blade, then sheathed it. Switching it to his right side, he then shot his sword at the fleeing man, knocking him unconscious. Picking up Tomoe, he went straight down the alley. Checking to make sure she was still unconscious, he picked up his sword with one hand and stabbed the second thug through the heart. Cleaning it again, he stored it and ran them to the inn.

They made good time, Kenshin enjoying the smell of her perfume and the thought of good memories every step of the way. When the two of them arrived, he did not run into Okami while sneaking in.

It was worse. Just as he reached to open the back door, Katsura opened it on his way out to the back garden. Both froze. "Himura?" Katsura asked after a loaded pause.

Oh, why couldn't it have been Okami? "It's not what it looks like!" Kenshin blurted, causing Katsura to attempt to conceal a smirk, and fail.

Katsura raised an eyebrow, eyes full of mirth as he tried for a blank expression. "Really? Would you explain then?"

Kenshin attempted an explanation. "Um, there were two men, and they were attacking her, and she fainted, and, um -" He stopped his stuttering, clapping his mouth shut, and stared as he waited for Katsura to comment.

Katsura stared right back. He then sniffed. "Is there a reason she smells of sake?" He struggled mightily not to laugh as Himura turned the color of his hair. It was in vain.

"If she's drunk it's not my fault! I couldn't leave her in the street!" Kenshin nearly screeched, remembering the late hour at the last second. Okami had been bad enough! But Katsura thinking - thinking - that he'd - !

Katsura took pity on him. "We shall ask Okami if there is room for her." Kenshin was torn between staying with his beloved, and going to get Okami while acting indifferent. Katsura noticed, and smiled to himself as he said, "I'll go look for her. It would be rude for you to leave your guest." The gratitude was clear on Kenshin's face as his commander left.

Soon enough Okami entered, somewhat shocked and disapproving. She took in Tomoe for a moment, then said, "Himura-san, I must say I don't approve." She talked over his attempt at protest. "But Katsura says you helped the girl, so just this once. Shoo. I'll clean her up." Kenshin bowed and escaped. He started for his room.

He had to squash the urge to tend his beloved. He wanted to cater to her in every way, shelter her from everything and take care of her, including things like helping clean her to keep her from being coated in blood. It wasn't like he hadn't seen it all before, and it wasn't perverted to be helping your wife. But then again, right now they weren't married. Or not yet. And it would be perverted when they didn't know each other. Kenshin blushed.

'Well,' he thought sourly, 'I guess now I am a pervert.' He froze as a thought occurred to him. He hoped fervently that the entire inn would not have heard of this by breakfast. He shook his head, went to change his clothes, tucking his top into the clean shirt. He went to the window bench and curled up to sleep. Sometime later he awoke briefly, as Tomoe was brought in, the futon unfolded, and she was tucked into bed.

Morning. He stretched out his senses to discover what had woken him, and realized it was an absence of company. His head shot up, he started to call for Tomoe and bit his tongue. Calling her by name when he should have no idea what it was would scare her, probably convince her he knew the real reason she was in Kyoto. True enough, but ...

He cleared his throat, called for Okami, and hurried toward the kitchen. He noticed offhand that his room still smelled of blood and white plums as he left.

Outside the kitchen door, he almost ran into Tomoe who was carrying breakfast trays. He stalled, then forced his brain back into gear. Start at the beginning. "Um ... what's your name?"

She looked at him evenly, no hint of her thoughts on her face, and replied, "Tomoe."

He had to admit she was calmer than he would be in such a situation. He admired that. She walked on with the trays, and he followed her, trying to make conversation. "What are you doing?"

She stopped to look at him, then turned and continued. "What does it look like?"

He stopped just as she started walking again. "Helping in the kitchen," he suggested dryly. He grinned to himself as she didn't bother to look at him while she replied.

"So you do know," she said, and setting down the trays she opened the door to the dining room. "Pardon me. I've brought breakfast."

The men were gathered right by the door to catch a glimpse of her. Seeing that his wish for a quiet morning had not been granted, Kenshin turned and left as the commentary began. Better to skip a meal than deal with the nosy questions. Tomoe would be able to handle the men; she had put them in their place fast enough before, and anyone tempted to bother her further would be tempered by believing her to be Battosai's woman.

Kenshin snorted. True enough, if not just yet. In the meantime, he had better go wait to speak with Katsura about the assassin. He slipped into Katsura's room, and sat against the wall by the door. He pulled his top from his shirt and spun it.

When he heard Katsura coming, he picked up the top and hid it away. Katsura slid open the door, and stopped as he heard Kenshin's voice say, "Katsura."

"Himura." He exhaled, relaxing, and stepped in. He took a seat in the center of the room, and Kenshin moved to join him. Katsura became tense as he was informed of the assassin's ambush. "Really."

Kenshin nodded. "Yes. I was ambushed by a shogunate assassin."

Katsura sighed. "Information from Choshu is being leaked out. Even our top secrets ... there is a traitor in our midst." Katsura raised his hands and began to rub his temples. "There's one other thing. Furudaka, who was meant to be at the meeting during the festival tonight, was captured by the Shinsengumi yesterday."

Unnerved, Kenshin asked, "So you will take a body guard?"

Katsura shook his head. "No ... I will be fine. But you need to be careful. We don't know where to start searching for our spy; another ambush may be planned in the meanwhile."

With that comment, Kenshin was reminded just how Iizuka would betray them. He had to reign in his fury, and Katsura, thinking him angry because of the unknown spy, assured him the leak would be located. Kenshin bowed with a foreboding expression, and left.

'If I make even one mistake with these situations ... everything will take an evil turn ...' His hands fisted at his sides.

Still on edge, Kenshin headed for the only bright spot in the entire situation. Tomoe had always had a calming effect on him, even when she was frustrating him; it was better to be frustrated with her than tense about the war. He smirked to himself slightly. Now, to convince her he wanted her to go. Frustrating angel that she was, she'd never agree.

He tracked her to kitchen, and asked if she would speak with him. She agreed, and took her lunch to his room so they could speak freely there. 

She settled herself on the window seat - she looked gorgeous with the lighting - and arranged her meal before her as he sat on the floor. She looked at him expectantly. He looked back.

"I'd like you to swear to forget everything you saw last night and go," he said bluntly. She was taken aback by his direct approach.

"Am I that much of a burden?" she asked. "Okami-san seems to like me."

As he remembered. "All well and good for her, you weren't staying in her room," he said, trying to sound irritated. "Besides ..." oh, how he hated to play this card, knowing what he knew, "your family will be worried about you."

Tomoe flinched nearly imperceptibly and drew back. "If I had a family to return to I wouldn't have been drinking alone at night," she shot back.

He had to swallow hard before continuing. She didn't have much left, did she? And he knew why. "I don't know your situation," oh, lie, "but we're not in any state to look after you."

Her eyes flashed. "So you'll finish me off? Like that man that attacked me?"

Even expecting such an argument, Kenshin was almost sick then and there. "... Think what you want, but we're all fighting for a new age of peace. I don't kill indiscriminately. You'd rather I left him to attack you? We're fighting to purge such evils ... and he wasn't an unarmed man. I would never strike someone unarmed."

She was really upset now, and he resisted the urge to hug her and apologize. "So only evil people carry swords, good people don't? How do you justify yourself? Had I carried a blade, would you have -"

He couldn't hear this. "That's -"

She piled her food on her tray and picked it up. "When you have an answer, please let me know." She left the room.

Kenshin hollered after her, "You're just going to walk out?" The door slammed shut. "Damn it."

He smiled grimly. Yes, just as frustrating as he remembered. Was listening so hard? True, she hated him at this point, but really.

He tapped his fingers against the floor a few times, then slapped it. He wasn't any better at articulating his opinions than he was last time they had this argument. He'd have to think on his wording. In the meantime, there was work to be done of a personal sort. He'd offer to help Okami with moving the rice bags before dinner, and then to business.

Okami accepted his help happily, and he was put to work moving the rice bags to easy reach. Considering the amount of men in the inn, quite a bit of rice was required for dinner and other meals; since he was there, she had him bring out the next day's rice as well, and it took a while to haul all the sacks to easy reach.

Later, he found himself rolling his shoulder as went upstairs to get his swords. Rolling it a last time, he reached for his katana and attached it, following it with his wakizashi. He let his hair down, smoothed it, and retied it in a neater topknot. He dusted off his clothes until he was satisfied. He wanted to look all business at the location he would be visiting this evening.

Done straightening up, he slipped out of the inn, avoiding everyone. Iizuka had verified he was not working tonight, and had no idea where he was going; to be sighted by any who could identify him now had the potential to be a fatal mistake. No one could yet know of this.

Nearly an hour of shadows and round about routes later, Kenshin arrived at a large house near the border of the city. He gave the required phrases and was admitted. Asking for directions, he was directed to a garden pavilion in back. He left the main house, going around to the pavilion and standing in the door.

Inside, a man sat on a cushion, meditating. At Kenshin's presence, he opened his eyes. "Hello," he said calmly.

Kenshin nodded curtly. "Suterusu," he greeted.

The master ninja rose slowly from his sitting position. "I assume you wish to talk?"

Kenshin nodded his agreement, and Suterusu gestured to a spot by the pavilion's window. They seated themselves. In the fading light, Kenshin could see that today, the ninja's hair was brown with a few gray strands. By one method or another, his skin was aged as well, though at the moment his movement spoke nothing of the apparent wear of time.

Suterusu inclined his head. "Why do you wish to speak with me?" he asked, no curiosity in his tone.

Kenshin assessed him for a moment, then said, "A young boy will be coming to Kyoto. Average stature, black hair and brown eyes, twelve years of age. Possibly any day now. I have need of locating him before any ... attachments are forced to occur."

Suterusu remained neutral. Kenshin continued, "For the future, I will also need to know the locations of several ninja, one of them with an unusual arm. I will also need to establish my own contacts in this city, and you can tell me who to speak with."

"You ask for much," the man of stealth said.

Kenshin met his eyes. "It's important," he replied.

Suterusu nodded his head. "The boy?"

"His name is Yukishiro Enishi. He'll be looking for his sister, Tomoe."

"And the ninja?"

Kenshin licked his lips, trying to wet his suddenly dry mouth. "I have been - informed," he stumbled only slightly, "that they will be a problem in the future. I intend to take care of them now."

Suterusu was silent. He rose, motioned for Kenshin to follow him, and departed. Kenshin followed him into the house, down a hall and into a study. As Kenshin watched, he pulled out paper, a brush and inks, and began writing. He finished the note, sprinkled some drying powder from a drawer, and handed it to Kenshin.

"Memorize the information and destroy it," Suterusu said, "before you leave the house." Without waiting for an acknowledgment, he swept from the room, leaving Kenshin alone. Seeing and sensing that no one was close, Kenshin sat down in the middle of the floor and studied the note. An hour later, he lit a candle, burned the paper and departed. 

Out on the streets the air was rank - the smell of blood and death was clearest in the night, where he spent most of his time. There were moments - brief, but there - when he was almost used to it. He held back a shudder. Time to get moving.

One of Suterusu's contacts would be up and about at this hour; the sooner his own line of information was established the better. To work. The man was across town, so he had best get moving.

His eyes narrowed at the shadows, and seconds later he was gone.

* * *

Urg, I've done it again. Why is it that I never remember disclaimers? I don't own Rurouni Kenshin, I make no money off this, it's all in fun. There you go. Disclaimer applies to every chapter, thank you. 


	3. May 1864: Pain

A night like any other in Kyoto: the bustle and false brightness of the day had been quickly packed away, and those who roamed the streets in the dark were the desperate and the damned. Kenshin wasn't sure if he was the former, but in his opinion he was certainly among the latter. He had proven it by his actions again and again, was proving it even now.

Silently, almost invisibly, he slid himself up into a tree overlooking a fine house and grounds. Watching his surroundings, Kenshin observed the man guarding the house's main door attentively. Why the household assumed threats would only enter through the first floor was beyond him.

It was late; eventually the sleepy guard's attention wavered, and when he blinked Kenshin leapt from the tree onto the near roof. Quickly, he slithered in the open second story window, carefully avoiding the low desk set directly underneath. It took him but a few moments to spot the tray sitting just inside the room's door, with a steaming teapot and a single cup. Kenshin padded across the floor, pulling a closed vial from his sleeve. He opened it and, lifting the lid off the teapot, poured the contents inside.

Task completed, Kenshin silently slipped out the window, pulling himself to the roof. He lay there, flattened for a time, waiting without haste to verify the results. Eventually someone, the targeted man by the footfalls most likely, entered the room. He walked around for a while, reading and pacing if he followed habit, then poured himself a cup of tea.

Several minutes later there came a thud as the man hit the floor, dead. Kenshin didn't wait a moment longer and jumped for the nearby tree; waited as there was no call from the guard, threw himself over the high fence from there and disappeared into the dark alleys. His normal jobs to bring heavenly justice were horrible, but the silent assassinations were absolute hell.

Tomoe didn't know about this side of his job, the merciless, cruel, truly cold side; she never had. If he had it his way, she never would.

* * *

Merciful Dreams  
Chapter Three Soundtrack: Pain - Jimmy Eat World

* * *

He had received the missive in the early morning; as always, on the surface and in every way it appeared to be a congenial correspondence between Katsura and his most useful assassin. Kenshin had picked out certain words, decoding his orders as he read. Finishing it, he had resisted the urge to crumple the paper, just barely, and had sat to write a pleasant reply. Just a normal letter - nothing had need of being reported, just to keep the orders secret they had to keep up the pretense. Just a letter. Not a secret order for untraceable actions.

Certain assassinations could not be dealt with in the typical manner, would cause too much upheaval if their group was fingered as responsible. But the men still had to die; and the so-called silent assassinations took care of that. He'd had to slit throats, use kunai, mimic sword styles not his own and various other fighting methods to prevent tracing the deaths to the Choshu. He was picking up quite the education in ninja arts from Suterusu's cell, and lately excelling instead of making due as he was being refreshed on what he'd already been taught.

These skills were temporary, no matter how he excelled, as he couldn't let signs of his training show - not during the war and not after. To let it slip could possibly expose the Choshu, and after the fighting ended he would need to continue keeping the secret. And just maybe he would be able to erase the stain he had left on the Hiten Mitsurugi by using it as it was meant to be used, to protect others. He had caused a stain to be added to the name, and though he would never come clean the Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu should remain blameless of his despicable actions.

As much as he had wanted to go find Tomoe after dealing with Katsura's letter, he couldn't bear for her to see him prepare to kill someone in such a way. The night would involve poisoning the nightly tea of a certain official; no honor in that, not even of a twisted sort. There was no way for him to pretend the man might be able to fight back, and it would have shown in his expression. She couldn't know, no one but he and Katsura did, and it would remain that way no matter what.

Besides, she had enough trouble knowing about the normal assassinations, and he had never wanted her to know he had been able to strangle a man in cold blood. He didn't want to remember how he'd killed that man. It was better for his sanity not to think of it.

His quiet apathy he had regained by wandering the city for the rest of the day, acknowledging the views, observing the people, reading store signs. Just after dark he had slipped to the ordered safe house, picked up a vial and slipped away. He'd been informed of the man's nightly habits in the letter, and easily picked the time to enter through the second story window and poison the tea.

It had gone off without a hitch, which lead him to where he was now; trying to forget the sound a fresh corpse made as it hit the floor while he entered his room at the inn. Tomoe was already there, the futon rolled out and waiting as she wrote in her diary. She looked at him as he entered, then turned back to her writing. He settled himself in the corner to sleep, pretending not to notice as she snuck inquiring glances his direction every few moments.

She closed her book abruptly, and he looked up, startled. Without looking at him, she tucked her diary into her folded clothes, leaving her ink and brushes out, and curled up on the futon.

He was puzzled. She'd been here for several weeks, was settling in again, and this deviated from their shaky routine. Normally she was calm, when happy or sad or thoughtful; it took great lengths to provoke great reactions from her. To leave things out and to slam something around ...

Kenshin's brow furrowed. He'd try to find out what was bothering her tomorrow, if he could do so without making her suspicious. If they were to have any real relationship again, it would only be when she could come to him, stand being around him of her own choice. He curled against the wall, sitting across the room. The distance felt huge in the quiet.

He missed holding her. Once again he realized what a torment it was to have her in front of him, yet unable to hold. He tried to take solace in his dream memories, but like any memory the warmth was quickly fading away. Tomoe beside him both eased the pain and exacerbated it; then going out to kill, the remembered warmth died faster, leaving only the harsh and lonely reality of war and death and blood it never ended sometimes he needed to scream -

"Himura-san?"

Kenshin calmly raised his head, smothering the sudden instinctive hope. Tomoe, on the futon, had turned to look at him. "Yes?"

She studied him a moment, scowled, then flopped back over and yanked the blanket nearly over her head. Kenshin winced. Whatever reaction he was supposed to have had, that clearly wasn't it.

Sighing to himself, he settled down and tried to sleep. For a while, he succeeded; but within the hour he woke screaming. Tomoe had bolted up in bed, he saw, staring at him with wide eyes. Shaken, Kenshin leaned his head on his hand for a moment, and took several deep breaths. He then stood abruptly, and left the room.

Down in the kitchen, he pulled out a cup and a bottle from Okami's private sake stash. She was going to kill him for this, come morning. Oh well. He poured some then threw the drink back, grimacing at the copper-blood taste he experienced and wishing again to hold his Tomoe.

His head shot to the door as it opened. Tomoe stepped in from the hall, holding her shawl around her shoulders with one hand and pulling the door shut with the other. He put the cup down. They eyed each other.

"You aren't happy doing this, are you," she asked gently.

"I hate it," he replied honestly, expression steeped in grief. They continued to stare.

"Will you continue this way? Killing whomever they decide is their idea of wrong? In their way?" Tomoe queried.

Kenshin could have explained better, but once again, she'd managed to unsettle him. Somewhat easy to do, after that bloody nightmare. "I ... I need to continue to fight. If I give up now ... I would be wasting all that I have already done. I want the new era to come."

She watched him. "I'm sorry you don't like it," he said, and it was truer than she knew, "but I need to finish this."

She still had no words. He hurried to add, "But no more. Then, no more. I don't want to kill for them forever." Slowly, she nodded once, and the two of them retired upstairs to sleep. The rest of the night passed peacefully, free of dreams.

The following morning was bright and cheerful and really annoying to a tired Kenshin. He tried to distract himself from the sunshine, and had some success contemplating how things stood between him and Tomoe. She'd been staying at the inn around two weeks. It would certainly follow that he'd be used to her by now, so being less reserved would be okay. He might even be able to have a real discussion with her again!

His thoughts quickly soured, pointing out that nothing ever went smoothly for him. Something had to be going or about to go wrong. Two weeks. Around two weeks. Wasn't he forgetting about something ...?

He cursed lowly. Oh right. The typical assassinations (was there really such a thing?) were about to start coming again, all in a flurry. A rain of black envelopes.

Kenshin frowned as he realized he no longer had a sense of humor. That had been far too morbid. Why did he bother trying? Perhaps he should go find a book in the common room and take it upstairs to read. Quiet sounded nice.

He searched through the selection, and decided on a book of poetry. He carried it to the window bench in his room, and not three pages in Tomoe entered the room with mop and bucket. Just as he was comfortable, too.

"I need to clean, please leave for a while," she said, looking him straight in the eye. He took it to mean she was slightly accepting of him - enough to look him in the eye, anyway. It was a start.

He nodded once. "Alright." He picked up sword and book and started for the garden. He was somewhat annoyed about the timing, but wasn't going to let it show. She would take it wrong, and he was just being stupid, anyway.

Downstairs he ran into Iizuka. Seeing Kenshin's forcibly blank expression Iizuka raised an eyebrow, and held out an accursed black envelope. "It's for tonight. Take care of it," he said.

Kenshin snatched it irritably, jammed it into his book as a bookmark and stomped off. Iizuka blinked, turning to stare after Kenshin as he slammed through the empty common room. 

Out in the garden, Kenshin hopped into a tree and curled up. Finding the right spot for himself and sword, he opened his book, tucked the envelope in his sleeve, and began reading. Books were becoming an obsession. Far better to escape in contemplation of the written word than to think of the blood and grief he caused. He was probably going to run out of books to read; half of them had already migrated to a stash in his room, and the rest would most likely soon join them.

The afternoon meandered by, time forgotten in the pages of poetry. Eventually he blinked, and realizing how dry his eyes were, decided to go back in. He climbed awkwardly out of the tree, and rubbing his sore eyes went to put the book away.

That done, he still had time to waste until dinner. His first impulse was to see if Tomoe was working, and if not ask her to take a walk with him. That thought was quickly squashed.

That would be different than before. He was terrified that changing his behavior would make something go wrong; she had fallen in love with him before, somehow, if he was too different would she not come to love him? He knew he wouldn't be able to take it if she didn't stay with him. Yes, he was trying to change what he could to keep her alive, but he was staying as close to his memories as possible. The possibilities the changes might inflict were giving him headaches. 

Kenshin blinked, as he realized he had been standing around, staring off into space for a while and most likely looking like an idiot. He exited the room, shaking off the remaining feelings of fear, confusion and stupidity. He still needed something to do. He wandered out of the inn, then in the direction of the city's market, adjusting the black envelope in his sleeve.

The day was warm, uncomfortably so in the close quarters of the crowd. He let himself be jostled along mindlessly until several items arranged on a blanket caught his eye. Slipping around a large man and an unremarkable woman holding her young boy, he stepped towards it. Arranged on the merchant's cloth was an assortment of small mirrors. He was sardonically amused and vaguely disturbed as he stared at them.

A hand reached out and tugged his hair.

Kenshin's eyes went wide, his hand flying to the hilt of his sword as he ducked away, even as he heard a woman call "Soujiro!" Behind him, the young mother holding her son looked very contrite.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, sir, he will be punished for this ..."

Kenshin, trying to slow his heart, managed a confused nod. The mother, visibly avoiding looking at his sword, hurried off, berating her son.

"Soujiro! You do not pull people's hair! And you don't bother anyone with a sword! It's not safe -"

Kenshin winced. The little boy protested, "But he has funny hair -" His mother was all but running now. Kenshin watched them, pained, before turning back to the blanket.

In a fit of whimsy, he paid for one of the mirrors, ignoring the knowing smile of the merchant. Inexplicably unnerved in some vague way, he carried his purchase back to the inn. 

He went upstairs to tuck it away in their room for later, but she was there. His insides froze, and they stared at each other. She had paused where she was tucking a book away, and he was just inside the door. He had to fight the insane urge to flee madly from the room; preferably all the way from the inn. He would give her the gift.

Several steps across the room, and he handed the mirror to her. Tomoe blinked, and extended her own hand to take it after placing the book down. She held the mirror in both hands, looking at it, before she looked at him with an inquisitive expression.

"For you," he said abruptly. He couldn't look her in the eye. "You deserve it."

He had to be blushing now, his cheeks a light pink. But he had to see her reaction, and made himself look up.

Her expression - her eyes, they swirled with surprise, gratitude and appreciation, but most importantly they smiled. Hesitant, he smiled back; her lips curved upward just a bit, and inwardly he was ecstatic. Tomoe was smiling! She liked her gift! She lowered her gaze, and turned to find a place for her mirror. She placed it by the book she had set down earlier.

That was something he'd never gotten around to asking her before ... "Do you like to read?" 

Her eyebrows shot up as she turned to him, either because of his uncharacteristic inquiry or his speaking at all, he wasn't sure. After a pause, she answered. "I have found some books to be interesting."

"Ah, then -" He held up his hand, hurried downstairs, and shuffled through the book piles for the second time that day. Someone else had been browsing, and he couldn't find the - 

"Ha!" He hurried back upstairs with the poetry book he had been reading that afternoon. She was still standing there, a faint look of amused indulgence and curiosity on her features. 

"Here. It's pretty good. I liked what I read of it, and thought you might like to read it, since -" His words trailed off into an indistinct hand wave.

His almost eager statement had surprised her again, it was clear. But after a moment, her eyes slid to the book she had put down several minutes before.

Kenshin fidgeted. "After you read your other book, of course." She nodded, the faint smile back again. She reached for it, and as he stretched out his arm to give it to her, the black envelope fell out of his sleeve. The room went dead.

Kenshin dropped the book, snatched up the letter, and fled. He didn't return to the inn until late that night, after the assassination.

Pulling down a bucket, he filled it with some waiting well water, then began to scrub his hands. He ignored the gentle ki he felt standing in the corner's shadows, until she was in front of him, holding out a towel. Slowly, he looked up, then took the proffered towel. She stayed with him, waiting while he washed. They retired upstairs, and slept.

The evenings were now once again following the pattern of his bloodied nightmares, and the days were a haze only Tomoe's acceptance could dispel. Her waiting for him every night was a saving grace; while committing the assassinations he was preoccupied, his mind focused on seeing her when he returned to the inn.

His comrades must have noticed, but even not all present he was extraordinarily lethal, and no one was willing to say anything to his face. Certainly not when they were working. Perhaps this was something they would address later, he did not recall one way or the other.

His thoughts had blanked out, to focus on one thing. 'Tomoe ...'

His sword stabbed the man in front of him, ripping out through the man's side. The man went down, a gargled, liquid-sounding scream coming from his throat. Kenshin absently blocked an attack on his right, deflecting a bodyguard's sword and then cutting his legs out from under him. Without a thought, Kenshin stabbed the man's heart, putting an end to his pain.

The last man tried to sneak up on him from behind, attempting to kill the hitokiri with a thrust through the torso. Kenshin leapt up and back, flipping over the man to land behind him, beheading him with a steady stroke. Kenshin slowly cleaned his sword and turned toward the inn, thinking of Tomoe waiting there for him and trying to forget his most recent massacre.

She was indeed waiting for him, and the relief he felt on seeing her was immeasurable. She waited with him as he tried to clean all the blood from his hands, and when they went upstairs to sleep she reached out to squeeze his hand. He was pleasantly shocked, and incongruously curled up to face his nightmares with a smile on his face.

His cheered outlook meant nothing in the long run, however, and so he was up most of the night. After the second time he awoke, Kenshin left the room to wander around - no point in keeping Tomoe awake when he couldn't sleep. Eventually it was late (or early) enough to depart for his extra training with Suterusu, and that practice effectively passed time until a respectable hour.

Along with everything else to do with his tainted job, this timing was something he would not miss - getting up at four in the morning to train in ninja arts was tiring. Especially to someone who found sleep to be a good friend. He was cranky when he didn't sleep. Not sleeping meant snapping, clumsiness, and a fuzzy, clouded feeling in his brain.

It was then little surprise later that he barely remembered working with Suterusu, eating breakfast at the inn, running through his kata, helping Okami around the kitchen or deciding to take an afternoon nap. However he would never forget the look on Tomoe's face when he held his sword to her throat, her kindness and thoughts of him almost killing her as she had tried to wrap her warm shawl around him.

Kenshin flinched as he pushed her away from his drawn blade; he threw himself back, and his sword away from him. He trembled; the nightmare he'd been having had almost became a real nightmare of a worse sort. He had known to be careful, but still he'd - and he'd almost - dear God he'd almost killed her, just as he had before when she saved him. He curled over his hands, clasping them together tightly, mind almost snapping, unable to cope with the terror.

"I'm so sorry," he muttered. "So close. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry oh Tomoe I'm sorry ..."

At the edge of his senses he heard fabric rustling, but he did not look up, and soon Tomoe was at his side.

She placed a hand on his shoulder. She finally drew his attention, and the muttering stopped. He tilted his head up just enough to look at her. She seemed to come to a decision, and spoke.

"Let me stay with you," she took a deep breath, "let me stand with you, and hold back the madness."

For a moment, everything that needed to be said was visible in their eyes. Determination, concern, caring, pain; fear, regret, rekindled hope, love. He rested his hand over her own and then, taking advantage of the opportunity, he pulled her down into an embrace. Her eyes went wide as he held her tightly, leaning his head against her neck and breathing deeply.

She was probably going to poison his tea later for this presumptuous action, but he needed this. With her he felt whole, stronger, at ease, sane; like he could make it through the war still alive inside.

How he loved her, her unique habits, her bravery, her convictions and that she knew him well and hated the war and killing and stayed with him anyway.

She took another deep breath. "I will stay with you," she said, with traces of resignation. But opinions could be changed. Kenshin couldn't help but smile.


	4. June 1864: Number 1 Crush

The men were painfully loud, even though they weren't making too much noise or talking. Kenshin was hard pressed to keep an impassive face as the new recruits entered the courtyard of the inn in a large group, stomping and staring as they went. The building would be crowded for the next week or so - and after counting heads, he was convinced it was going to be an even tighter fit than Okami had figured on. Not the best knowledge to end the afternoon.

The new men would be instructed on various protocol, and the local safe houses of wherever they would be going. Over the following week they would be assigned their positions and trickle out. It wouldn't be long before most of them were gone, which would be a relief.

He wasn't the only one out, watching their arrival; there was a small crowd of men in the entry hall, and several more were poking their heads out of a window. Kenshin was skulking near the back of the crowd trying to avoid any staring as the men realized that yes, he acted human from time to time. He was also mentally berating their stupidity - a couple of people greeting the new men was fine, but the gathered crowd was only going to draw more attention and suspicion.

Well, he wasn't moving. He'd been here first, anyway. Besides -

Kenshin stiffened.

A moment later, he was addressed from behind.

"Himura-san," a soft male voice said. Kenshin turned to see a nondescript man of average height. He didn't recognize the man, but that meant nothing in a time when there were spies everywhere. He could have slipped in with the large group easily enough. Kenshin nodded curtly, wary.

The man held out a piece of paper, folded and rather plain looking. Kenshin reached out and took it, and the man bowed to him. Seconds later he seemed to disappear into his surroundings, slipping through the halls of the inn without a sound, in a disconcerting display of stealth.

Kenshin stared at the empty space for a moment, then unfolded the paper. He looked down.

The message was one word, but it was all that needed to be said. It was certainly enough for him to walk further along the hall and start bashing his head against the wall. He'd have to head out after dinner, get the information from Suterusu. This was not going to be pleasant.

Enishi.

* * *

Merciful Dreams  
Chapter Four Soundtrack: #1 Crush - Garbage

* * *

He needed time to gather his thoughts. He would have to get Enishi as soon as possible, immediately after hearing his whereabouts, and he was still undecided about how to deal with the boy. On top of that, the Gion festival was in two days, with all its accompanying difficulties. Kenshin bashed his head against the wall one last time, then headed for his room to get his top.

At the door, he brushed by Tomoe, carrying a bucket of cleaning water downstairs. He stopped to talk. "Finished the mopping?" It had always looked awkward to see the girls try taking the mop and bucket downstairs together ... he was glad she had the sense to not try doing so, and avoid possibly slipping on the way down.

She nodded. "Yes. The rooms should be ready for everyone." She exhaled. "We were all very busy today."

Kenshin smiled. "The day will get better." One way or another, the day really had no choice on whether it would improve or not, he would bring Enishi to her and she would be happier ...

She smiled brightly at him, and he grinned back. He turned to leave her to returning the bucket. But focused on thoughts of Tomoe and her brother, he disregarded his surroundings; he turned, and bashed face first into the door frame. He began cursing fluently.

Tomoe's eyebrows shot up at the language he was using, but she was giggling too much to reprimand him. He shot her a look of wounded indignation, and she started to laugh even harder. Trying to salvage what little dignity he had left, he entered their room with head held high as she went down the hall with bucket in hand, still laughing.

Surely he was blushing now, just a nice light shade of severely sun burnt fuchsia. She was never going to let him forget that. He reached up to rub his nose. He'd do better to put it out of mind for now, and concentrate on his troubles. He grabbed his toy top and wandered.

He made his way to the porch, determined to enjoy the evening hours. He meandered along, stopping outside the kitchen. He sat down and leaned against the wall, pulling out his top as he listened to the voices from within.

It was amazing how amusing a top could be. Such a simple thing, intended for children, but the calm happiness to be found in its repetitiveness was soothing. More importantly, it also gave the brain time to relax, which resulted in clarity of thought when needed. Spin, spin, spin ...

There was the clattering of pans as the next meal was prepared.

"Why aren't the carrots chopped yet?" Okami. Spin, spin, spin ...

One of the girls let out a foul oath. "Because I'm trying to finish these extra rice balls! We don't have anywhere near enough for that many men."

There was a pause. "Perhaps Himura-san would be willing to do it, as he's outside."

SPIN, SPIN, SPIN ...

Kenshin winced, annoyed. He had nothing against helping Okami, really, but the amount of times she was calling on him as of late was getting ridiculous. He had not joined the Ishin Shishi to be 'Okami flunky.' He clenched his left hand, digging the fingernails into his palm, as he tucked his top away with his right. He stood and entered the kitchen, set on chopping the vegetables as quickly as possible and escaping.

And now that he thought about it, he was becoming quite the little homebody. He decided he liked it, in some ways; he was used to the quiet of Hiko's mountain, which didn't force excessive socialization, and left him finding things to keep occupied. Besides, staying in meant he wasn't killing. Pity he wasn't staying in more.

He lost himself in thought, trying to pass the time. The carrots went by quickly, but escaping did not, and he didn't leave the kitchen until just before dinner, when Okami shooed him to the dining room to await the food. In a change of pace, Tomoe decided to join him for the evening meal, and the two of them ignored the stares of the other men as they ate.

Afterward, he bid her good night and headed off to receive the information on Enishi's location. He hurried the pace a bit, almost but not quite rushing between points as he snuck away. As he went, it occurred to him that several people were going to kill him for this - Suterusu, for rushing and possibly giving away their location (how did he always know these things, anyway? Kenshin wondered); Katsura, whom he'd given absolutely no warning about Enishi; Enishi ... who would probably really want to, at least.

To Katsura, there was only one way to explain Enishi - that he'd found the boy because he was asking after Tomoe, and decided to deal with any possible problems by bringing him in. Couldn't give warning for that. Satisfied with his excuse, Kenshin fairly ran to the safe house, nearly knocking someone over as he arrived. He heard the information, and departed again just as abruptly.

After sneaking a ways out he broke into a dead run. The boy was reportedly a recent arrival in the worst part of town, having nowhere else to go. Honestly, that child was luckier than he knew - in that part of town, death was an easy out compared to what else could happen.

Running through the dark streets, lit lamps glowing beside him in a blur as he passed, the situation seemed surreal. There a dim glow, there a brightness like a star ... Kenshin charged into one of the cheap row houses. And there an empty room where the boy was supposed to be. Kenshin cursed.

Only one thing to do. He set out for the nearby bars, searching for Enishi.

In the end, it was all rather anticlimactic. He found the boy at the third place he checked, asking patrons if they had seen a woman with a parasol and a lavender scarf. Enishi was grabbed up mid sentence, pulled away in a blur that left the slightly more sober patrons blinking.

"Wha-"

Kenshin clapped his hand over the boy's mouth. He sensed something - there! To the left and ahead, outside the bar, a strong fighter's ki was watching them. It wasn't one he recognized. He decided to try and get a good look - run for it a ways, hide his ki and quiet the boy, see if the man revealed himself. He moved.

In their new position several streets down, he sensed faint surprise and admiration, coupled with frustration and anger. Enishi squirmed and squeaked, trying to get free. One of his wild kicks clipped Kenshin's leg, so he leaned down and hissed "If you stay quiet I'll take you to Tomoe." The boy went silent and still immediately.

Outside of the bar, their observer stepped into the street. Kenshin also went still, in unmitigated fury. Tall, gray-haired Tatsumi glanced around once, then stepped inside the building to interrogate the patrons. Barely managing to stifle his rage, Kenshin hauled Enishi up and returned to the inn. He didn't think it worth the difficulty to kill the man now - he was a danger, but one that wasn't likely to attack just yet.

Their arrival was met with a flurry of questions from some men returning from an escort mission. Kenshin mentally braced himself; time for one of the biggest acting jobs his life. "I'm plugging a leak," he said grimly, shutting up a few of the loud, inquiring men. He set Enishi down and bellowed "TOMOE!"

There was a clatter upstairs, then the sound of a slammed door and running footsteps. Moments later she was in the hall, a look of concerned fear on her face.

"Tomoe!" Came Enishi's cry, and her expression changed to shock. She caught Enishi as he ran at her, pouncing for a hug.

"Enishi! What are you doing here?" She asked, still looking dazed.

Enishi turned, to point out the man who had brought him to his his sister. "He -" Enishi got his first good look at Kenshin and froze, fighting to conceal the rage he clearly felt. Through gritted teeth, Enishi said, "He brought me here." Tomoe gave Kenshin a look of startled gratitude.

Kenshin, aware of the gaping crowd, nodded his head to the stairs. Tomoe nodded in return, took Enishi's arm and led him to their room. Kenshin followed.

They sat, and Kenshin found he had no words to say. The same seemed true of Tomoe and Enishi, and the sudden quiet was stifling. It lasted several moments.

"Why -" Tomoe faltered. She looked down, then to her brother and tried again. "Why are you here, Enishi?"

He shot a look at Kenshin, full of poorly concealed hate. "I followed you, Sister."

Tomoe cleared her throat. "How is Father?"

Noting the subdued interaction, Kenshin excused himself. They needed to talk, and he needed a drink. He had to remember - he was really going to owe Okami a new bottle of sake now.

Eventually he headed back upstairs, and found them tucking themselves away to sleep. Enishi was with Tomoe, curled up on the futon and glaring at him, as if daring him to object. Kenshin rolled his eyes and ignored him, curling up against the wall to sleep. He heard Enishi huff angrily.

All through the next day, Enishi tried to make Kenshin miserable. Everything from removing a small book he'd been using to mark his place in another book, to attempting to stab him with a chopstick he'd pilfered at lunch. The resulting scuffle between them banged up the stairs a bit, for which Okami lectured them both about playing outside, turning Kenshin red with ire and causing Enishi to glare with ill humor.

Kenshin decided not to tell Tomoe about the last incident, at least not now; she was already distressed about matters. With the surprise of her brother leaving their father and himself out assassinating men most nights - better to leave that discussion for a much later date.

The evening went by, the three of them again settling in a somewhat uneasy arrangement at bedtime. Kenshin stayed asleep until roughly one, when a sense of something out of place woke him.

Kenshin heard Enishi moving about, a faint rustling as he freed himself from the blanket and stood. Enishi's ki felt of indecision, mistrust and anger. Several footsteps came close. Then there was a spike of focused hate in Enishi's ki, and by reflex Kenshin lashed out, kicking Enishi in the leg, effectively knocking the boy's feet out from under him.

Realizing his error, Kenshin immediately threw his arms up, catching Enishi before he landed on his lap. They were suspended there for the half second until Kenshin's sword hit the ground, the clatter waking Tomoe. Kenshin helped Enishi regain his footing as Tomoe sat up.

"Enishi? Kenshin?" She brushed at one eye, trying to think coherently.

"He tripped while he was going for some water, I assume," Kenshin said, the lie flowing thoughtlessly, "I caught him."

Enishi apparently agreed with Kenshin on one thing - they should not stress Tomoe. "Yes, Sister," he said, glaring at Kenshin where she couldn't see. Kenshin managed to keep a straight face. Barely.

Tomoe nodded, too tired to question, and returned to sleep. Enishi glared, stomping out of the room as quietly as he could. Kenshin observed that Enishi glared quite a bit, and clearly was in need of some peaceful, replenishing rest to put things in perspective. Almost as much as he himself was.

The attempted torment settled down the next day; after the happenings of the night, Enishi restricted himself to watching Kenshin carefully and glaring. Kenshin tried not to be bothered by the staring as he fetched water and made rice balls; it was instinct now not to be seen, and the observation was disconcerting. He was somewhat bemused by it all; if it wasn't one sibling, it was another.

That evening, Kenshin and Tomoe were upstairs, Kenshin napping while Tomoe mended one of the men's shirts. Enishi was out in the yard, passing time until they joined him for the Gion festival.

Kenshin woke briefly when Iizuka burst in, but not wanting to face the soon to be traitor, he feigned sleep. Moments later he was brought to full awareness as he sensed a strong, agitated ki enter the inn. Tomoe turned to him, starting to speak, but was cut off as Katagai and Iizuka ran in. "Himura!" Katagai hollered.

Kenshin was wide eyed. "Katagai! What is it?" Remembrance set in with a sinking feeling. "You were supposed to be guarding Katsura at the meeting -"

"The meeting place, the Ikeda-ya - it was raided by the Shinsengumi!" Katagai answered, agitated and upset.

At the end of Katagai's words, Iizuka exclaimed, "Information is getting out!"

Kenshin asked, "What about Katsura?" A worried look firmly in place.

Katagai hurriedly explained, "It was too soon for him to reach the Ikeda-ya, the head of Tsushima was acting in his place - he narrowly avoided disaster - but Yoshida and Miyabe and the others -"

Kenshin made as if to run out, securing his katana, and Iizuka grabbed his sleeve. "Wait! It's too late now! Even if you ran there now you'd never get there in time. There are three thousand Bakufu soldiers out there - fighting now would only make things worse for our side."

Kenshin tensed and glared down at the floor. Katagai and Iizuka took this as their cue to leave, saying something about situations they needed to check on. Tomoe moved to his side, and placed a concerned hand on his shoulder. He took a deep breath, and turned to her -

There was a thump on the roof. Barely there, next to nothing, most would dismiss it. But it was accompanied by the slightest trace of well-trained ki. His eyes shot up, and he went straight for his wakizashi. Tomoe watched in confusion.

"Kenshin -"

A cry and a thump sounded in the yard, just as a ninja ducked in their window. Kenshin whirled around, holding the sheathed wakizashi in his left hand.

Dressed in the same apparel as the man with the chain swords, the ninja wore a short sword at his hip and a crossbow on his arm. Kenshin recognized him from the Forest of Barriers - he had a flashback of cutting the man's hands off, and barely came to his senses in time to shove Tomoe out of the way of a crossbow bolt. It landed in his shoulder, jerking him backwards. Tomoe stumbled to the side as he reached up and pulled it out, throwing it to the floor.

The ninja laughed. "See how she distracts you? You can't fight while you are protecting her! You are going to see your death, Battosai!"

Kenshin narrowed his eyes at his enemy, furious. "I will protect her," he growled, coldly reviewing what he recalled of the man's fighting style. In the corner of his eye he saw Tomoe look at him, startled by something as he secured his wakizashi at his side and drew his katana.

The ninja leapt into the room, drawing his blade. Kenshin lunged at him, his intent not to hit but to drive him away from Tomoe. His opponent swiped underneath his arm, and Kenshin swung his sword around to block, but not before his sleeve was nicked. They jumped apart to assess.

As they jumped apart, the ninja pulled a bolt from his gauntlet. He finished loading it, his eyes never leaving Kenshin. His eyes were wide and wild, thoughts flying behind them faster than comprehension. Some emotion was growing there, and Kenshin couldn't quite place it.

The ninja laughed again. "You missed! You could have killed me, but your focus is split! You can't win!" He lunged forward with his blade in his right hand, aiming his left hand and the crossbow over Kenshin's shoulder at Tomoe. Kenshin dodged right, cutting the bolt from mid air, and gaining a cut at his left shoulder. He hissed under his breath.

The room was large, plenty of room to maneuver and easy to fight in if you weren't protecting someone. The ninja was fast; not so fast that Kenshin was worried about himself, but with a long distance weapon coupled with his close range blade ... he needed a place where he could eliminate the extra room, make it so he could block the shots at Tomoe and have freedom to attack. There was the option of fighting with both his wakizashi and his katana, but the ninja was right - his focus was split, and he'd probably stab himself trying to fight in two directions.

Kenshin feinted again, speedily, forcing the ninja to dodge. A space cleared briefly; Kenshin forced Tomoe out the door, and they ran. The ninja followed, taking the bait. He was now in the smaller hallway, giving a key to his defeat.

Kenshin turned, in time to parry the blade aimed at his throat. He pushed the ninja back, snarling in annoyance, throwing the man against the wall. The ninja recovered, pushing off the wall to increase attack speed as he lunged again.

A sweep of Kenshin's sword, and the fighting was over. The ninja landed on his back, the bloody remainders of his arms halfway raised. Kenshin lowered his sword to the man's throat.

"Tell me how many of you there are, and your death will be quick," Kenshin said, his voice chilling. If there were more of them than he expected waiting in the wings, this could be difficult ...

The ninja smiled, face adopting a fanatical expression even as hope died in his eyes. "Shadows behind shadows who will not stop until victory," he announced gleefully.

Kenshin swung his sword, and the ninja was dead.

He could hear some men downstairs, his comrades who had yet to depart for the festival. They were on edge, trying to figure out what was happening and if they needed to defend. Disbelieving his opponent had been alone, Kenshin scooped Tomoe into his arms, forewent the stairs, and jumped straight down to the first floor. He landed in a crouch, set Tomoe on her feet, and dragged her over to the other men. He all but threw her behind them.

He slid to a stop, taking deep breaths. The others looked to him, unnerved by his disheveled appearance and lacking guidance. Paying them no mind, he strained his senses, reaching out as far as he could. He detected nothing except the serving women and Okami in the workroom (afraid, confused) and the handful of men surrounding them (agitated, scared, at a loss).

In the sudden calm, Tomoe remembered her brother. "Enishi! Where is he?" Hearing her quiet exclamation, Kenshin's head shot up and he ran off, checking the rooms of the inn. Running out to the yard, he remembered the earlier cry. Had another assailant taken him? But why would they -

Realization struck like lightening. The ninja shouldn't have known much about Enishi, they shouldn't have known where to find them, and they shouldn't have been able to formulate a new plan so fast - unless they had information from the inside. Even at this early date, Iizuka had betrayed them.


	5. June 1864: Ava Adore

In the aftermath of the Ikeda-ya incident, the main location of the Ishin Shishi had shifted. Handfuls of the men were quickly being assigned here and there to other houses and inns, and Katsura himself had taken residence at a large house at the edge of a neighboring town for the next several days. Though the Ishin had taken quite a blow, Katsura himself had lost none of his fire and intensity, which was blatantly obvious at the moment.

Katsura stared at Kenshin over the table. "You feel this to be important."

Kenshin fought not to squirm. "Yes." He failed in his endeavor, shifting his weight, causing him to lean side to side where he sat. Katsura raised an eyebrow at his best hitokiri's antics.

"Do you believe there is no possibility of a leak?"

Kenshin stilled. "He doesn't know enough to tell them anything. And according to our discreet associates, he hasn't been in Kyoto long."

Katsura's eyebrow went back up. "Really. I wasn't aware they had reported him."

Kenshin remained outwardly calm, but inwardly he panicked. "It has been an eventful few days. Perhaps you missed it ...?" He offered weakly. He mentally crossed his fingers and hoped that the excuse would be accepted.

"Perhaps," Katsura said evenly. "But I was certain I received the rest of the report that day."

Or not. "Sir, I need to retrieve him." Kenshin pulled a seldom used word from the back of his head. "Please."

Katsura studied him for a moment, then sighed. "It goes against my better judgment to allow one of my stronger assets to leave on a personal crusade during our present straits, but it is understandable and will eliminate several strong members of the Shogunate's side." Katsura tried to look him in the eye, but Kenshin looked away. Katsura paused. "You are sure you can handle it?"

Kenshin nodded briefly. "Yes."

Katsura nodded back, even though Kenshin could not see. "Alright."

Kenshin raised his head from staring at the floor. "Thank you." He stood silently and bowed. He went to the door, sliding it open.

"Kenshin," Katsura said quietly, stopping him. Kenshin looked back. "Whatever it is you are hiding, I hope you will tell me someday."

Kenshin paused, then nodded. He left the room.

* * *

Merciful Dreams  
Chapter Five Soundtrack: Ava Adore - Smashing Pumpkins

* * *

Kenshin stepped outside the house, and shut the door. He looked around easily, scanning the trees and verifying no one was present, then at a brisk pace started along a path that led around Kyoto.

He needed to avoid sticking out, and appearing as some home-bound nobody was fine. A quick pace because no one sane was out past the fast approaching dark, but not too hurried because he wasn't doing anything wrong, of course. Kenshin wrinkled his nose at the thought, then pretended it was itching and rubbed it to cover his expression. Just in case.

Following the path, he struggled to keep his thoughts from showing on his face as he considered the ninja he would be facing. They were strong, no doubt about that, but without getting the drop on him they shouldn't be too difficult to deal with. In fact, if he managed to surprise them, it might even be easy.

About twenty-five minutes later, he hit the edge of the city and turned onto one of the smaller streets that led to the marketplace. He headed for a building near the edge of the area, a small one room shop where the proprietor lived in the back.

It was a flower shop, an indoor business because Arakaki-san was too lazy to be bothered setting up business outside in the market proper. The man was congenial, friendly, the type anyone felt comfortable talking to, and that was good because he was part of the local spy network.

Unaffiliated the majority of times, with members overlapping into Shinsengumi networks and the like, the network (called simply 'People') made of ordinary men and women was currently leaning toward the Ishin Shishi, in hopes of a better future. Kenshin had already exhausted favors from Suterusu by asking his group to watch for Enishi and learn of the ninja; it was only fair and near as accurate to ask the People further questions.

He slipped around to the back, and knocked lightly. In moments he could sense someone walking, soon approaching the door. The door opened, revealing a short, balding middle aged man in older clothes holding up a lantern.

"Arakaki-san," Kenshin greeted. "My apologies for the late visit."

The man blinked at him, holding the lantern out a little bit further before recognition set in. "Himura-san, oh, come in, come in," he said, ushering Kenshin inside. Arakaki looked around briefly, and closed the door.

Kenshin had only been here once or twice before, and surreptitiously eyed the room. Small, not at all fancy, rough wooden walls. He swallowed, and turned his attention back to Arakaki. The man was waiting patiently.

He wasted no more time. "There is a small group of ninja, the Yaminobu. Does anyone know their location?"

Arakaki took his time and considered. Kenshin stifled his impatience, as he needed to know everything the spy could think of.

"Well," Arakaki said, "no one knows outright, that I've heard of. But there's supposed to be a few buildings in abandoned areas that have had on the sly activity lately, and no one knows exactly what. Most every other dealing, we're able to figure who is involved, but this -" He trailed off. "Whoever is involved seems to almost vanish, not just leave quickly. Could be your ninjas."

Kenshin nodded. "Tell me."

After hearing the locations with the repeated sightings, Kenshin tossed him a few coins - just enough to cover some flowers. Patronizing the merchant was required, as the network ran on 'gossiping' and reciprocity, after all. No one ever suspected them of being spies because, in almost every way, they weren't.

He tilted his head in farewell, and Arakaki closed the door behind him. It was getting late, at this hour; but Enishi being gone at all was far too long. He should retrieve him straightaway.

At least he wouldn't have to train with Suterusu in the morning; all nonessential travel by Ishin members had been prohibited, as there was too much movement going on already with the reassignments and they didn't want to draw attention.

Focus. Only the mission existed. Nothing else was important. Kenshin tried to brush his bangs out of his face, failed miserably, took a deep breath, and went forward to end this fight.

The first location proved a bust; by chance, empty at the moment. He headed to the next given location - an abandoned cottage outside the assumed city boundaries, not far from where Katsura was staying - and found them there. He had to take them out immediately, for more than one reason now.

Kenshin found a tree with suitable branches, and leapt up to keep watch. He could only sense a handful of people inside, but he needed to verify at least some of their identities to see that he wasn't dealing with unexpected fighters.

It was several minutes before something happened. Then the door opened, spilling a touch of light for a fraction of a second as a dark form slid through. It was enough to see that the man now checking the premises was the ninja with the metal claws.

Carefully keeping the ninja in sight, Kenshin tried to decipher what he sensed inside. By elimination, there now remained at least two men, extraordinary fighters both, or two strong fighters plus a little more ki, like, say, a child's.

The clawed ninja slipped around the building, and Kenshin dropped from the tree and ran silently to the door. He would have the element of surprise, and the advantage for the seconds it would take the ninja to get back inside. Hopefully that would be enough.

He opened the door and slid in. The tall ax wielding man was on the far side of the room, and he looked up, expecting his comrade. His expression changed to one of shock, then he wiped his face blank and wordlessly slung his ax behind him and ran at Kenshin.

Kenshin drew his sword, swiping outward and forcing the ninja to abort his attack. At the ninja's stop, Kenshin stepped further inside, gaining the space of the room to fight in.

A curtain near the back of the room was pushed aside, and the large gray-haired man stepped out. That Shogunate man, the man he blamed most for Tomoe's death. Kenshin saw red. They were going to die, here, now, painfully.

"Battosai," the soldier smirked. "Tonight you will be brought to justice for your crimes against the Shogunate."

"Spare me." Kenshin said coldly, charging forward. He heard the door open behind him, but dared not turn around.

His sword blocked a side cut from the ax, and he leaned backward, shoving away the blade and avoiding a punch to the head. He took a step back. That answered that question; though the two were not used to working together, the ax ninja was used to a partner and the soldier could see opportunity, but a fraction of a second too late.

The soldier aimed another punch at him, from straight on, blocking his vision. Kenshin leaned back and to the left, stepping to follow the lean as the soldier moved and the ax came swinging down from behind him. His sword was up and smashing the ax to the side before he had to think about it.

No, not - there! He could sense the other ninja, the one with claws, lurking in the shadows, waiting for the time to strike. His eyes narrowed. 'Not a chance.'

He crouched down, and whipping around in one smooth motion, drew his wakizashi and threw it. The blade flew true and impaled the hidden man's hand, pinning him to the wall. There was a muffled sound from the shadows, probably an exclamation of pain, and Kenshin ignored it.

In the moment as he turned back to the other two, the soldier lashed out, kicking him in the face and sending him tumbling. He rolled with it, landing on his feet, sword still in hand and blood pouring from his nose. Seeing his opponents watching him, he stood quickly, trying to ignore the steady hum at the edge of his hearing.

Both ran at him, narrowly avoiding running into each other and determined to attack him from both sides. Kenshin bent his knees, leapt up, pushed off of the soldier's outstretched arm and engaged his sword with the raised ax, sliding it to an angle to propel his jump over the both of them. He flipped over, pulling his sword free from the ax and slicing the ninja across the back as he landed.

He pulled his sword from the ninja, and stepped back as the soldier turned around. The soldier moved forward, trying to knock him over with his thick arm, and Kenshin dodged, and stepped forward, sword raised. The soldier dodged a perceived attack, and Kenshin stabbed his sword into the ninja's neck, killing him.

Pulling it free quickly, he got out of the soldier's range and started circling away from the corpse. The soldier watched him warily.

"You are stronger than I anticipated," the man said. "Yet you will not win this fight."

Kenshin was too focused to care about the taunts. "You are standing in the way of my cause and my family," he said, voice deadly. "You will die."

The soldier's eyes narrowed, his fury honed by Kenshin's statement, and he ran to attack. He swung at Kenshin, and tried to follow that with a knee to the gut, but Kenshin lithely leaped out of the way, lightly cutting the man's leg with the tip of his blade. The soldier continued to come at Kenshin, swift and agile, but Kenshin was faster.

Again and again Kenshin marked him, a little deeper with each wound. The soldier growled, determined and barely feeling the pain. Kenshin wasn't about to stop the pain quickly. This man had manipulated Tomoe, playing on her grief, and was a strong part of how she would have died. Kenshin didn't have mercy for the man.

Kenshin also needed to get Enishi back. Snarling, he jumped back, sheathing his sword. The soldier followed, and Kenshin leapt forward again, drawing his sword in a powerful battojutsu the nearly bisected his enemy. Kenshin stood, panting, blood running down his blade to the tip to pour onto the bleeding corpse.

To his side, there was a clatter as a blade landed on the floor. He whipped around with every sense on alert, seeing his wakizashi wobbling on the ground even as he heard the door slam open behind him. His senses informed him of someone hightailing away very, very fast.

He closed his eyes, rubbed the blood from his face and focused his senses outward to alert him to any other people. The last ninja was fleeing, no one was left to attack him, the building was mostly deserted with the exception of a child sized ki placed -

His eyes shot open, then closed again in exasperation. Did these people have no imagination? Did they have to put Enishi in the back room, and judging from location, tied to a support post? Shrugging, Kenshin wiped his sword clean and went to fetch him.

And furthermore, they had only shown ill planning by kidnapping the wrong person. Honestly, what did he care about a kid that had been involved in a plot against his life, and bit him at every opportunity? The kid hadn't even been around long, and he only brought the boy to make Tomoe happy. A rather cold stance, in its way, but completely truthful. How was a lack of Enishi supposed to unsettle him?

Following that thought, Kenshin began to wonder if they hadn't purposely left Tomoe there as a back-up plan of some sort. Oh well. Something to consider, later.

Passing through the curtain to the back, he squinted in the lantern light, trying to adjust his vision, then spotted Enishi. He quickly stepped over, and bent down close to see the ropes. Tied tight, complicated knots, the ninja had known their stuff. Not wanting to waste time, Kenshin carefully started cutting at the ropes. He deliberately ignored the gag. He worked in silence for a few moments, Enishi glaring at him.

"I don't like you," Kenshin said finally. Enishi's glare increased. He continued. "I do like your sister. She's a good woman and I care for her." Enishi managed an expression halfway between shock and pure rage. Weird boy. "You make your sister happy. She cares for you a lot. And somehow, she has come to care for me as well.

"So," Kenshin went on, "we could call a truce. No fighting, to keep Tomoe happy?" The last of the ropes fell away, and Kenshin sheathed his katana and paused to stretch his arms. He then reached around and untied the boy's gag, and plucked the cloth away. He stood, fighting back an amused quirk of the lips as Enishi gaped soundlessly at him.

"Wha- but - you -" Enishi sputtered. Kenshin raised an eyebrow.

"Care for your sister," he cut in smoothly. "For her, will you be civil?"

Enishi shot up and yelled fiercely, "But you killed her fiancé!"

Kenshin's expression went to bitter acknowledgment. "I know." Enishi was struck speechless again. "Ishin intelligence is better than you give us credit for." The child tried to bolt from the room, for some unknown purpose, and Kenshin caught him. "I already told you, I care for her. I won't kill her for it, if that's what you're thinking."

"YOU MADE HER UNHAPPY!" Enishi screamed, loud enough that Kenshin let go and stepped back. "YOU TOOK AWAY HER HAPPINESS! SHE LEFT BECAUSE OF YOU!" All screamed out, Enishi stood there, panting. They regarded each other for a moment.

"Yes," Kenshin said evenly, holding back his regret. "And I intend to make her happy again." Enishi was glaring at him, and he glared right back. "I swear it. Truce?" He extended a hand, in the Western fashion he'd heard of.

Enishi looked at his hand, stuck his nose in the air, and walked out. Kenshin watched him go, mentally shrugging, and followed. When the kid passed out from shock at the sight of the bloody corpses, he slung him over one arm and went on, picking up his wakizashi on the way out.

He snuck through the city, traveling calmly for the first time that night despite his burden. They arrived back at Kohagi inn; seeing as Tomoe was working there, and pulling her out now might arouse suspicion, she remained hidden in plain sight amongst the other girls. Enishi would stay quiet and behave for her, so it would be safe to leave him there. Okami could use him as an errand boy for a while to keep him out of trouble.

After dropping Enishi in their room and quickly changing, Kenshin made his way back downstairs, to leave and report to Katsura. In the entry hall, however, he came face to face with Iizuka.

Iizuka looked over his bloody hair and sore nose with a critical eye, and whistled. "Looks like you got that brat back, huh?"

Kenshin loathed admitting it, but Iizuka was controlling his reactions well. His breathing and heart rate were calm, and his eyes were only slightly dilated. He had to be very practiced. Kenshin tamped down on his anger, sealing it away. He would have plenty of time to deal with the man later.

Kenshin nodded. "Yes. They are dead." He scrutinized Iizuka; the man's breathing barely increased. Very practiced, indeed. How long had he been betraying them?

Iizuka nodded curtly, in acknowledgment, smiling that crooked smile. "Good for you, problems out of the way, and all. Up for a celebration dinner?"

Iizuka knew very well Kenshin would say no. He had to report to Katsura, not to mention clean up more thoroughly. What alibi was he trying to set up? "No. I must report to Katsura-san," Kenshin said, with no trace of emotion.

"Too bad. Catch you for the next assignment," Iizuka said casually, and sauntered out. Kenshin waited until Iizuka would have made it nearly to the end of the street, and followed from above.

He quickly found him again, by peering over the edges of rooftops until he spotted him taking an alley. He trailed him to a restaurant, a small place that mostly sold soba and sake. Iizuka took a seat inside, in a back booth, and Kenshin jumped to the ground, hiding around a corner with a good view of the booth through the door.

A waitress arrived, and Iizuka ordered something, presumably drinks and food. About two minutes later, he was enjoying some sake, and trying not to look around expectantly. Roughly fifteen minutes after he first ordered, two bowls of soba were brought out, and he gave up the pretense of not looking around.

Kenshin heard footsteps up the street; quiet, trained and purposeful. He melted back into the shadows.

A tall man walked by, apparently nonchalant for so late an hour. His hair was pulled back in a samurai topknot, with a few bits escaping near the front that gave him a look of having a spider on his head. His face was narrow, harsh, and he dressed in normal clothing and a sword but couldn't quite pull off an easy walk. Kenshin focused on him, committing his appearance to memory. This was a man to be wary of.

The tall man walked into the restaurant, and after a moment Kenshin slid back to his spying corner. The man had joined Iizuka, and was calmly but enthusiastically ingesting his cold soba. Iizuka seemed to be berating his tardiness, and was starting to show signs of nervousness.

Not being able to hear, Kenshin decided to take a chance. He circled the building he was hiding by, coming into the street out of the door's sight line. Quietly, he walked along the restaurant's outside, coming to about where Iizuka would be sitting inside. Cautiously, he knelt down, and slowly placed an ear to the wood.

"- I worry," Iizuka was hissing. "It doesn't matter how good my cover is if I still get caught."

A snort. Kenshin presumed it was the companion. "You'd better not get caught, then." An unknown voice. Kenshin tried to memorize that as well.

"Someone else already did. Our little red's been busy tonight. He killed the Yaminobu ninja."

The clicking of chopsticks against porcelain stopped. "All of them?"

"Probably. He isn't the type to let any get away." Kenshin winced. One was an improvement over several, but he'd still have to look out. "And all he had to show for it was a bloody nose!" Iizuka was hissing again.

There was silence. Then, "I must report," the man said. "Thanks for the soba."

"What -" There was a scuffle as someone stood. Kenshin hurriedly got back from the wall, stood, and ran back the way he had came. He slid to a stop.

Back at the spy corner just in time, he watched as the tall man left, still almost-not-quite nonchalant. Moments later, Iizuka emerged, looking both ways before starting back towards the inn.

Kenshin slumped against the wall when they were gone. No doubts could be left at this point; Iizuka had been feeding information to the Shogunate for quite some time.

He couldn't be used to send false information to the other side; he was too highly placed to trick. All that was left now was to eliminate him.


	6. June 1864: Warning

There was a cut off scream. Those out that night ducked their heads and hurried away.

With a squelching sound, Iizuka's head was forced back, his body to its knees, Kenshin's sword stabbing into his neck from above. Kenshin pulled his blade free, raised a foot and kicked Iizuka back. Iizuka landed in the dirt, gasping, hands reaching for his throat.

Kenshin watched him, coldly assessing his condition. He would not let Iizuka die quickly. Kenshin prowled over to him.

Seeing his red death above him, Iizuka tried to scramble back, one hand firm around his wounded throat. Mercilessly, Kenshin raised his sword and sliced it across Iizuka's stomach.

Iizuka curled over, instinctively attempting to decrease his vulnerability. He coughed, his wounded throat spewing blood as he lost his grip.

"Your betrayal will not be tolerated," Kenshin hissed.

Iizuka's unfocused eyes glanced up, wild, glazed with fear and pain.

He would have helped the Shogunate hurt Tomoe! He was the reason good people had been lost! He had to suffer more!

Snarling, Kenshin hauled back and stabbed him through his left lung, the tip of the blade dipping into the ground. Iizuka's blood poured out, his death fast approaching.

... It wasn't enough.

Remembering what would have happened, Kenshin twisted his sword violently and pulled it out at an angle, ripping the side of his torso and ribs to shreds and severing his left arm. It wasn't enough, wasn't near enough, even with the bastard now unquestionably dead, body spread in pieces across the street.

Kenshin swung his sword, jamming it halfway into a wall. He stood there for long moments, panting, running his hands through his hair and trying to calm his anger. When he felt reasonably in control, he reached for his sword, shook off the blood and sheathed it. He looked at the body, shoving his damp bangs out of his face again.

Kenshin recalled Iizuka saying something about 'catch you for the next assignment.'

'I did,' Kenshin thought with bitter satisfaction.

Kenshin turned away, striding towards the inn, his clenched hands the only sign of his tension.

* * *

Merciful Dreams  
Chapter Six Soundtrack: Warning - Incubus

* * *

On arriving, he promptly filled a basin with water. Dropping the empty bucket, he plunged his hands in the basin and feverishly scrubbed.

Off. It needed to be off. The traitor's blood could not remain, it was hideous, foul, a slime that clung to the skin and would not be removed. He scrubbed harder, turning his own skin red as the blood was washed away.

The door slid open, and Tomoe stepped in. Concerned, she studied him, watching his frantic actions. He couldn't look at her. Had she been waiting again? For him? After one of these assignments? They were a shame on him. She should never have had to be drawn into this, though he was thankful for her presence.

She came up behind him, wrapping her arms around him in hopes of stopping his distress. He continued scrubbing - the blood had to be removed. She held him for a while; eventually, giving up, she slowly slid her arms away. Turning, she slowly started back for the door.

She was stopped short of leaving as Kenshin hugged her, his head leaning against the back of her neck. They stayed still like that for several moments, his damp hands soaking her clothes where they rested on her shoulders.

Feeling daring, he placed a gentle kiss on the side of her neck. Lingered a moment, then let go and calmly made his way out the door, down the hall and up the stairs without looking back.

Once he was sure he was out of sight, he scampered to their room as fast as he could go, in order to be "asleep" by the time she came upstairs. His cheeks were burning, and he didn't think he could look in her the eye without blushing more. He couldn't believe he'd just done that, now, what would she -

He heard her footsteps in the hall, and dropped to the floor with his back against the wall, lowering his head to sleep.

She entered and crossed to the futon, calmly getting into bed, and if she noticed his blush she didn't let on. She rolled over, wrapping herself in the blankets and falling asleep. Kenshin smiled as he slipped into slumber, the earlier tension of the night completely gone.

Early the next morning, Kenshin arose. Setting aside some clean clothes for his return, he slipped out to run through his kata. In his memories, the Kinmon no Hen would be soon, and he needed to keep a calm mind through the coming weeks. Iizuka wasn't worth thinking about, he was no longer a threat, and would be forgotten.

Arriving at his clearing, he immediately fell into his practice. Every turn, every attack, every leap brought a feeling of detachment from the everyday; for a few precious moment, he was unencumbered by all that had happened in Kyoto.

But the freedom was fleeting, and all too soon he'd run through everything. And it was late. Later than he'd intended to be, anyway, and therefore time to head back. Wiping sweat off his face with his sleeve, he re-sheathed his sword and left.

The walk back was quiet. It was still early for most of the city's population, and a very few were out and about, setting up stalls or sweeping outside their restaurants. It was easy to avoid them (he didn't want the effort of forcing a happy greeting); a few turned corners before they could see him clearly, and he was away.

He passed several streets of houses; then turned left onto a wider road with various shops, that was just down the street from the inn. Keeping close to the buildings, he hurried his pace and slipped inside the inn's gates where he relaxed.

Going upstairs, he snuck into his and Tomoe's room, grabbing his clothes before going back out to get his long-awaited morning bath. After a long soak, he dressed, leaving his dirty clothes in the hamper and heading for breakfast.

Just outside the half-full dining room, he was stopped by Katagai. His presence at the inn was surprising. Inquisitively, Kenshin looked at the man, who with a grim face handed him a black envelope.

His own expression going cold, Kenshin tucked it in his sleeve, nodded in acknowledgment, and slipped past him to enter the room.

Unknowingly, they had just set a pattern for the next month. Katagai would wordlessly bring him a new envelope everyday, sometimes more than one, and that night the marks died bloody deaths at the edge of his blade. Tomoe showed concern, in her quiet way, waiting for him every evening; Enishi continued with his surly scrutiny.

In the midst of the string of killings, Kenshin became certain that his 'memories' were becoming dimmer and dimmer. He thought that the Kinmon no Hen would be soon, but he could no longer recall the exact date or what exactly he had done that night. He knew they went to Otsu, and had lived there, and the tragedy had happened, but the little details were gone. He was considering writing down what he still remembered, though for what purpose he wasn't sure.

He idly toyed with thoughts of doing so, and more deliciously thoughts of sweets, as he browsed at a sweet-maker's shop. He'd been out locating the places the evening's target frequented, when the scrumptious wafting smells had drawn him in.

He was eying the price of a bag of mochi when the shop's curtain was pushed aside. He glanced up, seeing a young man in a yukata, carrying a small pig cuddled close. Kenshin stepped back, covering himself in shadows as he pretended to look at another display. He couldn't place ever having seen the man, but his senses screamed enemy.

The young man set down the pig, which sat at his ankles and grunted unhappily. Ignoring the pig, the man greedily eyed the sweets and visibly planned what to buy. The shop keeper swept over with a familiar greeting and a smile which was happily returned.

The man cheerfully ordered, the shop keeper scooping various sweets into a bag with a laugh. Kenshin began to wonder if he was becoming paranoid, when his eavesdropping paid off.

The strange young man paid for his purchase, then leaned over and spoke quietly. The pig went silent. Kenshin strained to hear the distant conversation.

"There is talk of ... things happening tonight, Nakashima-san," the man said softly. "It might be best to be elsewhere." The shop keeper, gone pensive, nodded. The young man picked up the pig and swept out.

In order to conceal his listening in, Kenshin grabbed the first thing within reach, a container of daifuku, and took it to the counter. With a forced congenial expression, he paid and exited the shop. What to do first ...

Distracted, he almost missed the sight of a certain cloth merchant, hawking his wares. Thinking quickly, Kenshin crossed the street, catching the man's attention. The merchant brusquely concluded business with a customer, who stalked off in a huff at the rude treatment.

Turning to address Kenshin, he didn't get the chance to say a word.

"Is there something happening?" Kenshin demanded.

The merchant's face dropped into a frown so fierce it was almost a scowl. "No one knows. There are murmurs that parts of the Choshu are plotting, but it's so tightly wrapped that they're just that, murmurs."

Kenshin's gaze lowered in thought, then raised again. "If something were to happen, our side might be driven out of Kyoto, for a time." Kenshin nodded perfunctorily and left, a puzzled merchant in his wake.

'That should serve as bait ...'

Ducking into an alley, Kenshin leapt to the roofs, running across them to get back to the Kohagi faster. His last leap landed him in the middle of the back garden, startling several men. Didn't matter; they were all Ishin Shishi. The Kohagi inn had stopped getting normal customers months and months ago.

Running inside, he headed straight to Katsura's room, throwing the door open. From within, Katsura, Katagai and several leaders he barely recognized gave him startled looks.

"Himura!" Katsura, wide eyed and alert, gestured for him to join them. Kenshin entered, sliding the door shut behind him.

Katsura angrily recounted as he sat with the group, his hands curling harshly on the sheath of his sword. "The other factions of Choshu are going ahead with their mad plans to burn Kyoto and kidnap the Emperor." The room erupted into noise, shocked exclamations and shouts of outrage. He bellowed "QUIET!" and continued when the others were startled still.

"We received information that they are moving forward tonight. The Shogunate is sending soldiers to go against them, but may be too late. We must stop the Choshu."

One of the leaders spoke up. "They have the nerve to attack the palace directly? We must concentrate on heading them off there. The Emperor can not be taken!" Several murmurs voiced agreement.

Katsura nodded briefly, a tense acknowledgment. "The abduction must be stopped. We can spare none to stay in the city. Kyoto will burn," he finished, forcing those present to comprehend the outcome of the coming battle. The loss of Kyoto would be on their heads. The group looked grim, unease seeping through the room.

A cough shattered the quiet, and the mood dissolved. Plans were frantically made, discarded, remade, debated and improved. The arguments lasted past lunch; at their conclusion, the stationed men were ordered to make ready to leave, and be prepared to battle that night. The men picked up on the tension, and the atmosphere of the inn bordered on leashed hysteria.

An hour after sunset they departed. Discarding secrecy for haste, they marched blatantly through the empty streets. The closer they came to the palace, the more men from other locations met them, confirmed plans, and departed. Not one group reported being stopped by members of the Shogunate; convening with their allies for the coming battle, the Ishin's opponents were not present in this part of the city.

According to the report, the other Choshu planned to engage the Shogunate forces at the western gate of the Imperial palace. While the guards and soldiers were drawn there, the best men of Choshu's forces would sneak around the battle and retrieve the Emperor. The Ishin Shishi were going to lie in wait, to stall the Choshu until the Shogunate's attention was drawn to the location.

Approaching the palace, the company splintered into a multitude of groups. In the nearby streets, alleys and buildings, they concealed themselves as best they could, joining those who had arrived ahead of them. They waited.

The waiting was a new kind of hell. The heavy sounds of breathing and the shifting of cloth permeated the space Kenshin was occupying. Sitting cramped in with three other men, two of whom he recognized from the inn, Kenshin tightened his grip around his sheathed blade. The close proximity of strangers was unnerving. Things could still go wrong - in a war they always could. Something could happen to Tomoe while he was fighting, he might be killed, Enishi might do something stupid. Who knew.

There was shouting. Loud and at a distance; it was incomprehensible. Heads lifted, confused and worried glances were exchanged. Kenshin watched the door with intensity. Was this it?

The signal came. "FOR THE EMPEROR AND NEW JAPAN!" The nearby yell propelled the Ishin into the streets, converging at the sound of clashing swords.

One of the hidden groups had been found by a Shogunate patrol, and was forced to defend themselves against the angry blades. The second plan was now in effect - stall the enemy until the Choshu arrive, then in turn stall them until the Shogunate arrives.

For once, they were facing an enemy they weren't allowed to kill. Every soldier, Ishin or Shogunate alike, would be needed to stall the Choshu. Outnumbering the enemy soldiers, they easily disarmed them, knocking them out and setting them aside. But by this time, they had drawn the attention of the palace guards, who were quick to charge.

The majority of the Ishin stayed back, defending themselves when the guards made it past the first line. The finest swordsmen of the group stayed forward, drawing the well-trained guards from their comrades with careful blows. The guards cried out towards the palace walls, ordering back-up.

But by now it was obvious additional men would not be coming. Screams and clashes were heard, an arrhythmic accompaniment to the thundering of many footsteps felt through the earth. Elsewhere on the palace grounds, the Choshu forces had attacked.

The guards, now enraged, attacked the Ishin fearlessly. The Ishin began taking losses as the guards barged through their defenses and inflicted more than the earlier flesh wounds. Unable to withdraw until the Choshu were stopped, the Ishin fought on.

Kenshin was fighting a highly ranked swordsman when a call rang through the air. "THE TRAITORS! DEFEND THE PALACE!" The phrase served a two-part purpose: to confuse their current opponents, and to alert the Ishin to the long awaited arrival of the Choshu.

The Choshu, not expecting the additional opposition of their own former supporters, were momentarily as confused as the palace guards. Then as the Ishin ducked away from their fights to turn and bring their blades to bear, the Choshu soldiers shook off their confusion and met them.

The fighting was now accelerated and furious. The best of the Choshu against the Imperial guards and the Ishin Shishi simultaneously. The less gifted fighters of the Ishin were being mown down as the Choshu made their way closer to the gate. The Imperial guards and remaining Ishin threw themselves in the way, halting the Choshu.

As it progressed, the battle seemed fiercer, the number of opponents ever increasing. Soldiers were flooding in, threatening to sweep away the Ishin with the tide. Scanning the area, Kenshin realized the Shogunate soldiers had finally noticed the fight.

It wasn't long until the full force of the Shogunate descended, and the Ishin among the living were slipping away from the battle, running, stopping for their belongings and running again as they received orders of where to go. Man after man left for the safe houses outside Kyoto, and before Kenshin was sure it was really happening, he and Tomoe and Enishi were standing on a bridge, speaking with Katsura who was staying out of sight.

"We've arranged a house for you," he was telling them, "in a village outside the city. Hide yourselves in Otsu until you decide what to do. I'll contact you through Katagai. Tomoe-san."

Kenshin blinked, trying to clear his mind, and turned to look at her.

"Yes?" She asked quietly.

"You could remain there with Himura, if you and your brother have nowhere to go. A man with a wife and family to care for would avoid suspicion easier than a man alone. Of course it would just be show." There was a rustling sound as Katsura presumably stood, still hidden from sight under the bridge. "Look after him." Then footsteps, leading away.

Tomoe was nervously (or shyly, he couldn't quite tell) studying the wood of the bridge. "What should we do? Enishi and I don't have a place to go, and ..." she trailed off, staring down more intently and fidgeting with the bundle of their things.

Kenshin hesitated, hoping that she would stay, would agree to his next words.

"Let's live together," Kenshin said abruptly. "I can't guarantee how long we will be away from the fighting, but ... we don't have to face it alone. Together ... forever?"

In a cold sweat, Kenshin stared out at the burned city, unable to look her in the eye. What if she said no? What if she wanted to leave him? What if she thought him too presumptuous? What if Enishi's blatant dislike influenced her decision? What if -

His inner ramblings stopped as he felt Tomoe slip her hand into his. When he turned to her, she smiled at him. He smiled lightly, his eyes slipping shut with relief.

They shot open a moment later as Enishi began to yell. "NO! SISTER, YOU CAN'T MARREPH MMMPH MMPHMPH!"

Kenshin had slipped behind him, clapping a hand firmly over his mouth to stop the shouting. "Don't you think that's up to your sister?" Enishi started flailing, and Kenshin held tighter. "Are you trying to draw the Shogunate down on us?" Enishi stilled, moving only to sink his teeth into Kenshin's hand. Kenshin winced, hissing a bit, but said nothing as he let Enishi go. Enishi hurried to Tomoe, clinging to her sleeve.

"Sister, you can't marry him! He's a - he -" Enishi stuttered to a stop, head whipping around to look at Kenshin, then back at Tomoe. His brows were creased, his eyes frantically angry, and he seemed to be divided.

Kenshin just looked at him. No matter how he fretted and wished Enishi would just cooperate, the boy had to muddle out a decision on his own.

Furious, Enishi let go of his sister and pounded his fist on his thigh, then turned his back to them with an enraged exhale. Tomoe, concerned, stepped forward and made as if to touch him, but pulled back at the last moment. She composed her expression and said softly, "Enishi, you must behave better than this. Himura-san has kindly taken care of you. Be happy for him."

Him. Not us. Clearly, she was still undecided about what she felt. Kenshin hid his wince and tried not to feel for a while; the sharp heartache was extremely distracting.

Slowly and with several deep breaths, Enishi looked over his shoulder. "Congratulations," he muttered sullenly. Kenshin nodded back, barely caring what Enishi thought as he watched Tomoe's tense form with concern.

"Shall we go?" Kenshin suggested. Tomoe's attention was drawn to him, and she dipped her head in assent. The two of them started walking. After several more deep breaths, Enishi followed.

Their steps seemed lonely on the road. Kenshin's ears were still ringing from the clashing swords and pounding of feet on the earth during battle; now it was six quiet feet, pattering along the road, echoing oddly in his abused ears.

Kenshin, exhausted from the fighting and lack of sleep, was no longer able to keep his mind from wandering.

He thought about the battle, and how he had no idea if he'd fought it before. He thought about how the leaders had argued, and though he would never admit it, he wondered if they disagreed that much how would they ever win the war? He remembered how yesterday morning, poking about the city, he hadn't even thought of much beyond written words and sweets.

Sweets. He had sweets, didn't he? Well, he didn't want them. Maybe Enishi would appreciate them, a peace offering of sorts. Exchanging a few quick words and a shy smile with Tomoe, he retrieved the daifuku from their bundle. He offered them to Enishi.

Enishi glared at him. Kenshin met his glare; after several moments, Enishi looked away. Reaching a hand out, Enishi snatched the food, and scurried to his sister's side. He tugged on her sleeve and when she turned to him, offered her the sweets. Watching the boy's actions, Kenshin rolled his eyes. It was going to be a long few months.

* * *

First, extreme major huggles/kudos to sueb262, whose input was abso-freaking-lutely invaluable to this chapter. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I pile chocolate roses at your feet. :D

PIG-SAMA! For those who are going 'wtf? A pig?' there is an explanation. We have - a cameo. Saizo-sama is 'Peace Maker Kurogane' Okita's pet pig. Love the pig. Love. But I no own.

You know how I said last chapter I had a omake epilogue-thing already written? Aha ha ha ha ha ha ha I lied. Or, I didn't, but things solidified in a different direction than I originally planned, and now the first version is completely void. The epilogue (a proper one, this time) will be longer, and hopefully more amusing. So I hope you'll forgive me when it takes forever to write, because it'll be more like chapter length instead of a page or so. Eeeeeeeep.

In the reviews left for Scenes From A Time, there seems to be some confusion over what happened to Hiko. Go back and read the author's notes for the chapter previous. All you need to figure out what happened is there, I promise. :) 


	7. December 1864: Such Great Heights

Tomoe pulled her wrap tight, and Enishi tugged on his worn haori to ward off the chill as they stepped out into the brisk and breezy December air.

"We'll be back in time to prepare dinner," Tomoe said, opening her umbrella to shade her from the late morning's partial light.

"Alright." Kenshin nodded, standing just inside the doorway.

"Bye," Enishi said nonchalantly, and Kenshin slid the cottage door shut behind the departing pair.

Kenshin left his hand there, and slowly leaned his head against the door. Closing his eyes, he took several deep breaths before pushing away and turning to the small room. He needed to finish his writing before they returned, and start on the household tasks he'd mentioned would keep him busy while they were in town.

Stepping over to the small desk, Kenshin sat and pulled his wife's journal from the drawer. Setting out ink and brush beside it, he settled himself and began. Since his memories were fading more each day, he was determined there would be at least one complete record of what had transpired because of that dream.

When brush touched page, Kenshin was absorbed in the task. Feverishly focused, his words spilled onto the pages, an account of the past months scribed in a crowded, hurried scrawl, faster faster faster. He wrote and, finding things incomplete, wrote on.

His hand tensed, a smudge left on the character he was writing as his head whipped around. A knock. Someone was at the door.

Setting down the brush and suddenly feeling light headed, Kenshin stood, composed himself, and crossed the room to let the visitor in. Sliding open the door, he came face to face with Katagai.

"Himura," their contact nodded brusquely.

* * *

Merciful Dreams  
Chapter Seven Soundtrack: Such Great Heights - The Postal Service

* * *

"... And Katsura hasn't been heard from in the last month. After the tragedy at Ikeda-ya, the men wonder if he will return. Some miscreants even go so low as to call him Run-Away Kogoro," Katagai finished, his face twisted in an angered grimace. His toes curled behind him where he sat.

"That isn't true," Kenshin replied forcefully. "I have faith that Katsura will return, and Takasugi will win - I know their fighter's spirit. The others do not believe because they do not know. Katsura will come through." Kenshin clenched his hands around the fabric of his hakama, unintentionally leaning toward his guest. He felt a sudden rush of fear of the unknown; the war would go on, but would everything come to naught?

Katagai leaned back, uncomfortably startled, and Kenshin forced himself to relax, lowering his head in apology. Katagai gave him a glance, and continued his news. "Kyoto streets are under the Shinsengumi's control. Those blood thirsty wolves are hunting Patriots daily, and the rest of the Bakufu are trying to outdo them. Staying hidden is necessary."

Thoughtfully, Kenshin nodded. "Their first mission is the city. They won't look away until then. Now, the most feared enemy is one who exists in the shadows, who might do anything. Like me ..." He trailed off, his thoughts turning to the last Yaminobu ninja.

Katagai blinked at him, brows furrowing. Kenshin shook his head; it was nothing Katagai needed to concern himself with. After a moment Katagai accepted the unspoken gesture and stood, bowing. Kenshin followed suit.

"You are keeping up your sword skills," Katagai stated, as he did every visit.

Kenshin raised an eyebrow at him. "Yes. I know better than to forget the world while I'm here." Katagai nodded curtly, accepting the answer in his gruff manner. He crossed to the door, preparing to leave.

It slid open in front of him, and Enishi's eyes widened as he started to step inside. The boy tripped over his own feet, trying not to run into the unexpected human obstacle.

Tomoe managed a more graceful halt. The siblings stared at him for a moment, startled; Tomoe recovered first. Inclining her head, she greeted their guest with a quiet "Hello, Katagai-san."

Katagai nodded. "Himura-san," he acknowledged as she folded her umbrella. He nodded again to Enishi, and seeing the intent expression on his stern face, Tomoe and Enishi stepped out of the way. Katagai left quickly, tracing the road with measured steps. Thick clouds were blowing in, erasing his shadow in the dimming afternoon light.

Kenshin took the opportunity to hide the diary, ink and brushes before they entered, noting he needed to clean the one brush before bed.

They stepped inside, and Enishi slid the door shut as Kenshin observed his small family. Though composed, Tomoe was clearly unsettled by Katagai's visit and all that it might imply, while Enishi looked vaguely curious and somewhat bored as he slipped off his shoes.

To occupy the quiet, Tomoe pulled a short length of fabric from her obi, and set it on the desk. Kenshin breathed a silent sigh of relief, and asked Enishi, "How was your trip? Successful?"

The boy shrugged. Tomoe answered, "We found fabric to patch his clothing. It was a good price."

Kenshin nodded and smiled, thinking it would be a good idea to start grinding the waiting batch of dried herbs before there were questions about what he had been doing. Or Katagai's visit. He was still off balance with worry, in no condition to think of suitable replies.

Kenshin went to pull out the grinding stone and several batches of herbs, deliberately nonchalant. Tomoe watched him with an unreadable expression, then turned back to her brother and directed him to remove his haori. Enishi slipped it off as Tomoe retrieved needle and thread, and the two of them sat as she began patching it with the new fabric, Enishi fidgeting with his sleeve.

While Kenshin worked, his thoughts turned to Katagai's visit. Katagai had been very blunt and forthcoming about the Ishin Shishi's situation, and Kenshin found himself surprised. After the slip up of mentioning his knowledge of Enishi to Katsura, he'd placed himself under suspicion. He was no fool; he knew they had been hidden in Otsu to be watched as much as protected. Perhaps Katagai was certain they were not spies after all these months? The man had at first -

At the edge of his senses, something prickled, and Kenshin's work slowed. Extending his awareness, straining to the limit, he caught the vague impressions of trained, person, hiding, watching.

The last ninja - ! Kenshin's hands stopped altogether at the realization.

The last of a group with a grudge against him; also the last man who knew of Tomoe's status as spy, who might assume betrayal. He was a danger if he were to decide to tip off the Ishin Shishi - after the fiasco with Iizuka, Kenshin's own superiors would not hesitate to terminate her. But lucky for Kenshin, the ninja had decided to surface here.

Then, like a shot, the man was moving, away from the cottage and close to the path of the main road. Kenshin wondered over the direction, until he belatedly remembered Katagai and winced.

Tomoe noticed. "Is everything alright?" She asked. Kenshin raised his head, and saw her concerned expression. Even Enishi was looking at him.

Quickly wiping the regret from his face, Kenshin nodded wordlessly. It just wasn't possible to do anything. Even had he left when he first sensed the ninja, he couldn't have made it out to Katagai in time to defend him. And he didn't want to leave his family unprotected. He said a silent prayer for his most likely departed comrade, with no small amount of guilt.

Tomoe was glancing up at him now, between stitches, obviously wary of whatever he wasn't telling her. Unsure of what to say, he stood, leaving behind his work. Grabbing his sword, he stepped out into the darkening evening air - needing above all else to make sure no one was near their home. Enishi, who had lost interest in tugging his sleeve, followed him out and the two of them padded quietly around the cottage. A snowfall started, the glimmering bits of chill softly falling to rest in their hair, and they hurried back to the cottage's warmth.

Tomoe had finished the mending, and was beginning preparations for dinner. Kenshin busied himself with tidying up, surreptitiously washing the soiled brush and getting a supply of firewood before the wood was completely snowed over. As he arranged the logs in the fire pit, he noticed Enishi looking for a way to occupy his time until the meal.

Setting the last log in place, he went to fetch his top, and handed it to Enishi. Enishi gave it a funny look, then aimed the same expression at Kenshin. Kenshin shrugged. "It passes the time," he told his brother, and went to help Tomoe cook.

Throughout dinner, Kenshin could feel Tomoe watching him; though she turned away when he looked up, as soon as he resumed eating her eyes were on him again. At the end of the meal it seemed she could take no more; she quietly asked him, "What is it?"

He started to shake his head, then stopped. Telling her about the actions he'd taken and the expected attack would eventually lead to the "vision," and cast doubt on his sanity. But after his actions he had to tell her something ...

He furrowed his brow. "Something ..." he muttered, and pretended an attempt to focus on ki in the distance. Useless at this point, as the ninja was too far. He shook his head again, not having to feign apprehension, and inwardly winced at his wife's expression. Tomoe had been further unnerved by his answer.

When they retired for the evening, he cautiously placed his sword close beside his and Tomoe's futon, prepared to fight that very night if need be. His wife was clearly upset by the implications, and tensely clutched the blankets after blowing out the candle. Biting his lip, Kenshin put his arm around her, pulling her close. She lay her head on his shoulder, and he felt her trembling slightly.

He was shocked at the extreme reaction. "Tomoe?"

She buried her face against his neck, abandoning her grip on the blankets to hold him tight. He rolled onto his side to hug her, his yukata soaking up her distressed tears. Over her shoulder he saw Enishi - features dimly lit by the dying embers' glow - frozen halfway to standing up, and shook his head.

"Tomoe, what is it?" He asked, rubbing her back as she shuddered with her tears.

Tomoe took several deep, ragged breaths, and pulled back to look at him. He couldn't see her expression in the shadows. "You think we're going to be attacked," she accused unevenly.

"I'm afraid we might be," he replied honestly.

She went very still. "How did they find us?" She asked, trying to hide the trepidation in her voice. There was a note of something else, as well ... but he couldn't place it.

Kenshin stopped rubbing her back, leaning forward to place a kiss on her forehead. "They might have followed Katagai," he suggested, knowing it was most likely the truth. Unless an assailant knew who to follow, the middle of open farmland was the last place to look for a shadow hitokiri.

She burrowed closer. Kenshin pulled the blankets around them, and they snuggled close together in the cozy cottage. Refusing to drop his guard in deep slumber, Kenshin stayed awake; staring at the dark walls, sensing the isolation of their home against the trees, listening as rustling cloth gave away Enishi lying back down and rolling over, feeling Tomoe shift against his shoulder.

Eventually the quiet and thoughts of Tomoe's fear wore him down. Falling into a light sleep, hazy notions of comfort on his mind, Kenshin murmured, "I love you." He missed Tomoe's wide eyes and small smile.

Unknown amounts of time had passed when Kenshin cracked open his eyes. The house was quiet, and mostly dark, but something was off and there was a sick feeling in his gut, an aberrant feeling to the room ... suddenly, realization - hostile, here - and he was throwing himself out from under a clawed attack.

Quickly reaching one arm out for his sword, he wrapped the other around Tomoe, and rolled them out of the way. He landed in a crouch at the side of their futon, Tomoe dropped into a disoriented heap slightly behind him and next to Enishi. In front of them the futon shredded with the force of the attack, its ripped bits of fabric catching a hint of moonlight from the barely open door.

For an instant, faintly, Kenshin thought he saw a spray of blood from a form in blue - the death of Kiyosato relived in a moment of reckoning. Then he registered the cut at the corner of his eye; the claw blades had nicked him. He blinked away the blood leaking into his eye as their attacker drew away, and resisted the urge to shake his head.

The ninja leapt back, judged the distance in a flash and jumped over Kenshin, swiping his claws down with deadly intent. Still confused from the almost-memory, Kenshin was slow to react; he managed only to deflect the claws with his sheathed blade, sending his opponent crashing down beside him.

_ Tomoe there, in the rain - both red and water - as the now dead ninja and his weapons crashed to the ground_

The ninja rolled out of the landing, gathering his feet under him and leaping at Tomoe. Kenshin, reeling from the remembered scenes, almost missed it.

_ Their many arguments, even more assassinations, almost killing her_

But he still got there first. Bracing himself against the floor, an arm on either side of Tomoe, he shielded her with his torso as he kicked up, hitting the ninja hard enough to fracture his right arm and throw him back. Kenshin's momentum turned Tomoe, and she was deposited on the unharmed futon with Enishi - Enishi, who looked horrified at the severe attack.

_ Ikeda-ya, kill after kill without ceasing, the Kinmon no Hen_

The ninja jumped into the rafters. Kenshin blinked frantically, trying to clear his sight. In the dark, almost umbral room, the ninja was already difficult to track; the visions in front of him made it nigh impossible. Kenshin's hands sought his sword, head whipping around to try and keep his opponent in sight as the ninja slipped across the beams to hide his position.

_ Tomoe accepting his proposal - until we are parted by death - going to Otsu, their carefully crafted quiet life, everything falling to pieces when her brother came, fight after fight against the ninja in the deadly frozen forest_

Just barely, Kenshin saw the ninja surging down at him from his new position, death following a clear line.

_ Knowing the final blow will bring about his own death as well, but she will be safe, no regrets, only peace_

As he watched the ninja coming straight from above, through the confused fog, Kenshin thought of his opponent's earlier overhead strike, and what he wished he'd had the opportunity to do then.

_ Tomoe dying in his arms, felled with his own blade, one deep strike straight through her lungs_

Blocking out the memories, Kenshin steadied his feet, and angled his sheathed blade over his head. With left hand tight around the sheath, his right drew the sword out, over and down in a forceful battojutsu that sliced into the descending ninja's heart and lungs, killing him instantly.

The ninja's body crashed into him, at an awkward angle due to the sword stuck in it. Panting from the sudden exertion, Kenshin shoved it aside and staggered up, pulling his blade from its sheath of flesh and bone. Confused and dizzy, he raised a hand to his head.

'What ... just ... the ...' he wondered, thoughts scrambled - and scared because he couldn't remember everything that had just happened. Why did he feel like he was missing ... what? The ninja ... and they were fighting, but he remembered only flashes ... but he'd protected Tomoe, hadn't he?

Turning, he saw Tomoe, slightly bruised and dazed, and Enishi pressed as far back as he could get, still frozen with fear.

Adrenaline running out, Kenshin fell to his knees. Dropping his sword, he crawled to Tomoe, putting his arms around her and leaning against her shoulder. She was alright. She was here, she was alive, she was with him. She was alive.

'Thank God ...' Then Tomoe was holding him, running a hand through his hair, and coherent thought fled in the wake of relief.

After several moments Tomoe remembered Enishi and, looking up, reached out to his still form. Enishi's eyes slowly slid to hers, and he pulled himself over, ending snuggled between the two of them. It was a long time before they could bring themselves to move.

Eventually they did, needing to mop up the blood and move the body outside so they could sleep a few hours. Kenshin set to mopping the worst of it as Tomoe collected the remains of their futon, dragging it next to Enishi's and patching the worst of it with the remaining fabric they'd purchased just that afternoon. Soon all three were snuggled together again, wrapped in blankets that didn't quite dispel the lingering chill.

Contrary to its former state, Kenshin's mind resisted sleep, busy reviewing the fight. His reactions had been too slow, and he had no explanation why. Was he exhausted to the point where he could barely think? No, he'd been able to think clear enough to improvise, but then why could he only think of the fight in bits and pieces? What was he missing - was he missing anything? Were there really blank spots? Or had he gone soft away from the fighting? He'd have to step up his training if he wanted to survive the war -

His tumultuous thoughts stopped as Tomoe rolled in her sleep, brushing his arm as she turned closer. He smiled in the dark. The last of the Yaminobu working with the Shogunate was dead, and he supposed now at least he could allow himself to rest. There would be more threats, more dark terror in their future, but for now, just for a little while, they were safe. With a calm heart, he watched Tomoe sleeping peacefully until he fell asleep himself.

Unfortunately for the tired family, getting up at dawn was imperative - they could not stay, now that they had been attacked. There was too much possibility of other Shogunate loyalists knowing their location, and so they prepared for departure. Enishi was packing preserves, as Tomoe folded clothing and other belongings into bundles. After burying the ninja and writing a coded message for Katsura, Kenshin grabbed a bucket and stepped outside.

Wrinkling his nose as he again stepped into the chill air, Kenshin swiftly knelt and filled the bucket with snow. He needed to scrub the last of the blood off the floor - the village children would be the first to visit and find them gone, and he didn't want to put them through seeing the bloody mess. Or anyone else through it, either, for that matter. Standing, he scampered back inside their no-longer home, almost hopping in his haste to get out of the cold.

Inside, he kicked off his sandals, and hurried over to the fire pit to place his snow bucket near the flames. He'd seen Tomoe sitting at their desk out of the corner of his eye, and turned to tell her to dress warmly for their trip, but he shut his mouth at the expression of incredulous shock aimed at him. Tilting his head, he looked back at her, puzzled. Her diary was sitting open beside her, where she had dropped it.

Kenshin blinked. What looked like his handwriting was scribbled on the last few pages. But he'd never touched her notebook. Just what was it that surprised her so?

"Tomoe?" He stepped towards her, cautious and uncertain. "What is it?" Unable to speak, she gestured to the diary, and after another glance at her expression he picked it up. Raising a brow at her continuing intent stare, he began to read.

- - -

January, 1868

"You're just going to leave, Himura?"

Stopping, Kenshin and Tomoe turned to face Arai Shakku. The man stood several paces away, a sheathed sword propped nonchalantly over his shoulder.

"The revolution is finally becoming a reality, and you run off." He nodded to the katana at Kenshin's waist. "Planning to support your family with more killing? Five years as a hitokiri not enough for you?"

Kenshin stepped back, eyes widening in shock. Behind him, just as shocked, Tomoe reached out to clench a hand on his sleeve, her other hand hovering over her slighty rounded middle.

"No!" Kenshin near shouted, an instinctive denial of the accusation. Then he realized how it sounded. "I mean -" Choking on his words, he swallowed and took a deep breath. "I have no intention of continuing the life of a hitokiri. I don't like to kill. But too many people have learned of me over the years, and I can't believe we will be safe, now that I am leaving the fighting."

Shakku eyed him intently for several long moments, then jerked his head down in a curt nod. "You really think you mean that." His lips quirking, he lowered the sword to his side. "I have a way to end your 'problem,'" he said sarcastically, then threw the sword to Kenshin, who reached up and caught it automatically.

"A gift. Try it and see if it's enough for you. If you still want to avoid killing when that reject breaks, come back to Kyoto and seek me out."

With that pronouncement, he turned and strode away. The two Himuras stared after him, until they turned to the sword. Reaching for the handle, he pulled it out. His eyes widened again and Tomoe's brows raised at the sight of the reversed blade.

Sheathing it, he secured it beside his older blade. Tomoe's hand slipped off his sleeve, and he reached out to hold it. He smiled gently and squeezed her hand. "Shall we go?" She smiled, and they walked away from the war that had haunted them the last five years.

They would join Enishi in Tsuru; from there, they didn't know. But as long as they were together, the rest didn't really matter.

* * *

You have my most sincere apologies, but after the last month (? 1.5 months?) where the beta'd version did not get out but plenty of other nasty things, such as illnesses and a show and a broken down car (twice in 8 days! I get the durn thing back tomorrow) did happen, I have no energy to spare to make it a heartfelt apology. No energy. Bleh.

So who wants to bet my car won't start (again! Grr ...) Monday morning, which is my first day as a choreographer, when we're starting auditions for Sound of Music? ... The kids are going to eat me alive ;_; So scared ...

I was going to blather on and on here, but I think I'm going to save that for the epilogue. So ... um ... oh yeah! You're missing things if you aren't reading the side stories. Go read them. And I think there will be two or three more of them, in the (far?) future.

NEXT AND FINAL CHAPTER

Merciful Dreams  
Epilogue Soundtrack: Better Days - Goo Goo Dolls  
May 1878 


	8. May 1878: Better Days

A board creaked, and Kenshin blinked, his mind working its way to a state of semi-awareness. Warmth, a comfortable spot on the futon, Tomoe still asleep. Early morning, calm and still, no one up yet. Blessed quiet ...

Noise? What?

When no repetition came, he silently sighed, settling down. No need to get up yet, no work today.

A giggle, and the sound of sliding shoji.

Oh, unfair ...

Kenshin blinked, coming fully awake. It was far too early to find out what creeping little children were doing. It was nice and warm and cozy, cuddled with Tomoe, and he was supposed to be recovering! Was sleep so much to ask for?

Nothing answered him, and the children were making no further sound. Maybe someone was getting water? They were more likely to dump it on each other than drink it, yes, but there was no indignant screaming, so maybe he could go back to sleep?

He held out hope for a moment, until he heard the shoji again, and several pairs of small feet pattered by their room, headed for the yard. His brow furrowed in puzzlement. What were they doing?

Now they were shouting? Something that sounded like "Harada Sanosuke" and "Shogunate scum." Kenshin moved to sit up.

And a chase was on, complete with the clashing of shinai. Sounded like an adult was out there, too, judging from the footfalls.

'Oh, that had better not be -'

With all the noise, Tomoe started to stir. Kenshin immediately froze. They'd been awake so late cleaning up the remains of that disastrous dinner, and she deserved the chance to sleep late. What idiot had incited his children to war games barely after sunrise?

Just then his brother-in-law hollered, startling Tomoe to full consciousness. The children shrieked with laughter as they charged around outside, apparently running from the still screaming Enishi.

"Oh my God," Kenshin muttered, thoroughly disgusted.

* * *

Merciful Dreams  
Epilogue Soundtrack: Better Days - Goo Goo Dolls

* * *

Throwing back the covers, Kenshin rose, exiting their room. He stalked down the hall to the doorway, where he stood, all disheveled hair and wrinkled yukata. He surveyed the chaotic yard, an expression of annoyance on his features.

"Just what," he demanded with sleep-scratchy voice, "are you doing?"

The three children skidded to stop - rather they attempted it; Airisu managed to keep her feet but Yahiko tripped and sent Sasuke flying into their sister. They tumbled to the ground in a pile of dusty little bodies, shinai flying, protests and arguments going quiet as they noticed his ire.

"Do you know what time it is?" This was directed more at the smirking Enishi leaning against the fence, but the children were giving him their full attention. "Get back to bed! Now!"

Untangling, the three picked up their shinai and trooped back inside, to their futons if they knew what was good for them. They passed Kenshin, heads down and trailing dust into the house. Too tired to deal with low-spirited children just yet, he dropped his face to his hands.

"Argh," he muttered.

He heard a snicker.

Lowering his hands, Kenshin glared at Enishi, internally lamenting his spoiled morning. "If the neighbors don't band together and kill you, I will," Kenshin declared crankily, stomping inside.

Returning to bed, he reassured Tomoe that everything was fine. But while she easily fell back asleep, he remained wide awake, his injured shoulder twinging occasionally. Eventually giving up rest as a lost cause, he rose and dressed in his casual gi and hakama, then headed to the kitchen to start breakfast.

There he found Enishi sprawled out in a corner, napping, his gi askew. Kenshin woke him by dropping a broom on his stomach, and ordered him to sweep up the dust in the hall. Enishi's grumbling as he complied was easy to tune out; Kenshin was far too used to hearing it after all these years. Kenshin retrieved a carrot and, wrinkling his nose at the dreaded thing, fetched a knife to begin chopping.

Halfway through the food preparations, movement caught his eye, and he turned to see Sasuke poking his head in. His youngest had a pleading puppy-dog look on his face, and Kenshin's ill humor melted away at the adorable expression. Sighing, he nodded, and with a loud whoop of joy Sasuke was off to dress and drag his siblings out to play.

Two minutes later, Enishi had returned the broom, and before long the chaos in the yard had fully resumed. Several minutes more, and Tomoe was up, offering to finish the cooking if he wanted to keep an eye on the children. He agreed, and after kissing her cheek he wandered to the doorway to watch them.

Yahiko was practicing a strike, with Enishi's help; the boy had taken to kendo quite well, easily catching up to his adopted brother and sister after he joined the household. Airisu and Sasuke were not in sight, but he could hear them around the house. And they were getting louder ...

Sasuke burst around the corner, brown eyes bright and red hair sticking up every which way. He was yelling over his shoulder, and turned just in time to see the wide eyed pair getting out of his way. Frantically, arms scrambling for balance, he made a perfect skidding halt. He had only a second to look surprised at his good fortune, as Airisu followed him around the corner. Observing the three standing in the yard she lunged forward, tagging Sasuke; and then, in a display of unfathomable Airisu logic, pivoted to the side and pounced on Enishi. The boys quickly followed suit.

Kenshin leaned against the door frame, observing his brother-in-law being assailed. Only a stray elbow, a foot and his amusingly distinctive two-color hair was easily visible under the tangle of children.

After the ninja attack in Otsu, a patch of hair at the front of Enishi's head had gone white from fear. Enishi liked to say it made him look dashing.

Saito said it made him look like a flying squirrel. Kenshin was inclined to agree.

He grinned at the memories. Enishi (trying to extract himself from the the bottom of the pile) happened to catch the look, and correctly interpreting the amusement at his expense, scowled. Kenshin only grinned brighter, and stuck out his tongue when the children weren't looking.

It was turning out to be a beautiful morning after all.

Stopping only to slip on shoes, Kenshin went outside, off to play 'hero' and announcing his intended rescue of the 'beleaguered man-squirrel.' The children giggled and Enishi's scowling returned with a vengeance.

The game resumed, ending only when Tomoe called them in to eat. Kenshin pointedly dusted off the children (plus Enishi of course, just to annoy him) and himself before allowing anyone to go in.

Once inside, the children swarmed the table, barely able to wait for their repast. As soon as Kenshin sat, the air filled with "Itadakimasu!" and eating began.

As Kenshin accepted a bowl of rice, he caught sight of a small dark spot on the tatami. Frowning as he started eating, he resolved to pull Sasuke aside after breakfast and discuss who was considered acceptable as a guest and who most definitely was not. Perhaps they should speak in the study? The other children probably wouldn't wander in ...

Thinking of the study reminded him of the message waiting within it, and Kenshin winced. He'd been given three weeks to heal from his wounds; he was not supposed to be running back to Kyoto to help flush out Shishio's information network. How to get out of this?

Enishi 'accidentally' elbowed him, and Kenshin shot a glare in reply, concerns set aside for later.

After the meal Kenshin tapped Sasuke on the shoulder, and raised an eyebrow. Being a perceptive child, Sasuke knew well what was wanted, and followed Kenshin down the hall without protest. Enishi and Yahiko could still be heard talking loudly as Kenshin slid the shoji shut, then turned to sit across from his son. Taking a deep breath to relax, he started the topic.

"We have always welcomed guests, Sasuke. But perhaps some are more suited to long visits than others."

His son tried not to wince, then started to speak.

Kenshin stopped the protest in its tracks. "Your mother and I were awake until midnight, cleaning the spilled food."

"I didn't know that was going to happen! Misao-san needed a place to stay! I didn't know you knew the person she wants back!"

"Next time you should ask before bringing home guests that get into explosive debates." Kenshin considered momentarily. "In fact you are not allowed to invite any ninja to dinner."

"But Misao-sama-!" Sasuke fidgeted. "-San. Misao-san." He mumbled.

Kenshin stared at his son; his son stared at the floor.

"No weasel-like ninja," Kenshin said finally. "Ever."

"No weasel ninja," Sasuke agreed, looking devastated.

Kenshin quickly rose, crossing to the shoji to slide it open. His daughter blinked up at him from where she'd flattened herself to the floor.

"The same goes for you. No ninja. And no more eavesdropping."

Entirely without remorse, Airisu stood, smiling brightly as she shoved her dark hair over her shoulder. "Father, about my going to Maekawa dojo -"

"Airisu, we will discuss it later." Placing a hand on her shoulder, Kenshin guided her out of the way; then turning back slightly, he gestured to the hall. "Go get your things before you're late."

Sasuke hurried out to fetch his supplies. Airisu began to follow, but stopped when Kenshin firmed his grip.

Shifting his hand, Kenshin grabbed the shoulder of her school uniform and tugged it straight. "Now go."

With a bright smile she ran off. Kenshin veered for the kitchen, to figure out the day's shopping. A task simpler than composing a reply to the office, or thinking of how much they owed Tae for taking in such a spirited new waitress/ninja at such a late hour.

He would likely be groveling in apology later. Kenshin grimaced; it was not going to be pleasant, the next time they saw Tae, unless a miracle had occurred and the young kunoichi had behaved herself.

Stepping into the kitchen, Kenshin crossed to the storage chests. It was clear they needed miso, salt and soy sauce; they were also low on rice and vinegar, but those could wait a day, it was going to be uncomfortable enough carrying the first heavy items.

Soft padding in the hall alerted him to his wife's approach. Slipping into the room, she joined him in surveying the food.

"Perhaps the rice can wait until tomorrow," she said, understanding his dilemma.

"Alright." Faintly, he smiled. "Airisu still wants to attend lessons at Maekawa dojo, she brought it up again this morning."

Tomoe shook her head. "She still would not have enough time for her studies." Kenshin aimed a puppy-dog look at Tomoe, and she sighed. Kenshin hid his smile as she continued.

"It is too much until she finishes her schooling; until then she must content herself with only Kamiya Kasshin Ryu."

"Mm." Kenshin agreed. "Though if she keeps up her studies, we might ask Kamiya-sensei if Airisu could occasionally accompany her on her visits to Maekawa dojo." He tried another puppy look, but Tomoe only reached out to flick his uninjured shoulder.

"We will see." She smiled at him, a teasing gleam in her eyes. "One might think you wanted to go with her, you are so anxious about visiting."

Kenshin sighed, breathy and dramatic. "Alas, the perils of law enforcement! Keeping the cruel, heartless criminals away from the innocent town folk is a never-ending endeavor. Indeed one does not even have time to exercise."

Tomoe poked his not-at-all flabby stomach. "Takani-sensei will let you resume kata in a week or two. Stop complaining." She leaned against him, briefly resting her head on his shoulder. "Shall we?"

"Yes." He nodded, and as she went to fetch her bag he reached for several empty buckets. Back into the hall, slipping their shoes on and out the gate, and they were on their way.

The day was fine, sunny and bright with a few clouds drifting in. Walking into town took twenty minutes, but felt like no time at all as they talked and enjoyed the scenery. Soon enough they were nearing their favorite grocer's.

"... Then Enishi offered to take the children to the dojo after school, he ..."

Kenshin sensed someone coming towards them, and prayed fervently that he was wrong as to who.

"... seems to admire Toki-sensei -"

"Ah! Himura-san!" Kenshin felt a tug of his hair, and turned around, Tomoe following suit. Kenshin had prayed in vain.

The smiling young policeman laughed a bit, tilting his cap in a greeting to them both.

"Soujiro-san," Kenshin greeted neutrally, having a fair idea of the upcoming topic.

"I was hoping to see you today, though I had expected to stop by your house." Soujiro raised a hand to the back of his head. "Kawaji wants to know when you can leave for Kyoto."

Kenshin managed to stop his wince, and Tomoe looked at him, concerned.

"I hadn't found the right words to reply, yet."

"Kawaji is very impatient ..."

"And I have more than a week left to recuperate; I should not be working again so soon." Kenshin sighed, aggravated. Then a thought occurred. "Please tell Kawaji-san that I would not be able to recuperate and work unless I had my family with me. If he needs me in Kyoto so badly, he must procure tickets and lodging for us all."

Soujiro's hand dropped, and his eyebrows raised. "I'll tell him that, and then I think I'll run away; I like my ears when they are not deafened by yelling." Soujiro laughed, and tilted his hat.

"Good day, Himura-san, Tomoe-san." And with that parting note Soujiro left, strolling down the street. Kenshin frowned at the retreating figure, until Tomoe slipped a hand around his elbow and pulled him into the shop.

Before long they had made their purchases, and walking slowly they made the return journey.

At their return Tomoe placed the now-full sauce bucket in the kitchen, then left to put her bag away. Kenshin put down their miso and salt, and lightly rubbed the muscles of his left shoulder. After stretching his arm, he opened a storage chest, tucking the salt inside. As he stacked the miso in, Tomoe returned, ready to wash the morning's dishes and start on their lunch.

Not wanting to be in the way, Kenshin shuffled off to clean the children's rooms, grabbing the broom from where Enishi had stashed it earlier that morning.

He'd gotten through Airisu's room and was about to start on Yahiko and Sasuke's when Tomoe called him for lunch. By the time lunch had ended, his shoulder was outright aching, so Kenshin's cleaning plan was derailed in favor of Takani-sensei's ointment. Kenshin rubbed it into his shoulder and mentally cursed Shishio for taking a chunk out of his flesh.

That done, Kenshin forced himself to lie down and rest, but as it was nearing midday he couldn't stand staring at the ceiling past thirty minutes. With a sigh he rose and headed for the yard, where he sensed Tomoe. Setting himself on the engawa, he leaned against a post and watched as she scrubbed the laundry.

It really was a beautiful day, but he was never one to constantly keep still, and staring at dirty clothes and kunai holes in their tree quickly became boring.

"I never thought I'd miss my paperwork," Kenshin suddenly observed.

Tomoe smiled slightly. "Is my company that heinous?" She teased.

"You know that wasn't what I meant," Kenshin muttered, shifting where he sat.

Tomoe's smile grew. "I must be better than your usual company while doing paperwork."

Kenshin scowled and plotted ways to foist more of his paperwork onto Saito. The annoying jerk was ahead in their competition of who could finish their daily paperwork and get to leave first, and such a state of affairs could not be borne. Thankfully time taken off for recovery didn't count toward their challenge, or Kenshin would never be able to regain the lead.

Distracted by his plotting and cozily warm in the spring weather, Kenshin was finally able to doze off.

Some time later, he jolted awake at a sharp snapping sound. Tomoe was shaking out the last of the laundry and hanging it out to dry. Kenshin rubbed his eyes, noticed that the wash tub was still full, and stood to empty it; but before he could take more than a step, Tomoe turned to Look at him and suggest he go inside.

Disgruntled all over again, Kenshin obeyed and went in; she was right, after all, it probably was too much heavy lifting after the shopping and she'd always managed by herself, anyway. Stretching carefully, he decided there was enough time to sweep the boys' room before they returned home from the dojo.

Kenshin had finished the sweeping and moved on to cleaning his swords by the time the clamor of returning children reached his ears.

"TAIDAMAAAAAAAA!"

And there was Airisu, leading the charge inside. Kenshin heard the gentle murmur of Tomoe welcoming them home as he finished oiling his second blade; he calmly slid it back in its sheath, as several pairs of feet hurried down the hall. He'd just managed to put away the cleaning kit by the time Yahiko was at the door.

"Dad? We ran into Yukishiro-san on the way home, can he stay for dinner?"

Noticing that 'we' contained Enishi, Kenshin wondered why his brother-in-law couldn't stay away for even one day. "Yes, of course. It will be good to visit with him." Kenshin thought for a moment, "Did this long way home include a stop at the Akabeko to see Tsubame-chan?"

"DAD!"

Kenshin joined his fuming adoptive son, and the two of them went back along the hall to greet Kenshin's father-in-law.

Settled on the engawa with a cup of tea and then later behind a bowl of rice, Grandfather Yukishiro regaled the children with tales about the sailors and merchants in Yokohama. Keeping an ear open, Kenshin listened as well – grandfather's tales when he returned from his trips were always interesting.

As the current story wound to a close, Tomoe changed the subject. "Father, how did your business go? Did the paintings sell well?"

Grandfather laughed, light glinting off his glasses as he straightened. "Of course, of course! Those foreign merchants sure paid well for those artful scribbles. They're taking them to England," here the children's eyes went wide, "and some might even make it to America."

Airisu and Sasuke fell to speculating what those places might be like, and Yahiko took the opportunity to snatch an extra pickle from Sasuke's bowl. Tomoe noticed, and threw a tiny, wry smile his direction as grandfather and Enishi began discussing their current business records. Kenshin grinned to himself, and hurried to finish his food; if Sasuke noticed the missing pickle there'd be trouble, and Kenshin wanted to get all the food he could before then.

After dinner was cleared, Yahiko helped wash the dishes as Airisu and Sasuke dragged their school books outside to the tree to enjoy the remaining daylight as they read. Shortly after Yahiko joined them, and Airisu began reading aloud. Sasuke ran inside to fetch some paper and the needed supplies, then diligently set to copying a phrase from his book, his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth.

Within an hour, as the sun began to set, the children set aside their work to fetch shinai and demonstrate several just-learned strikes for their grandfather; he proved an enthusiastic audience, happily cheering and applauding where he stood under the tree's branches.

Before the demonstration could proceed further, Tomoe intervened, pointing out the late hour. Airisu picked up their books and paper, Sasuke the ink and brushes, and with Yahiko trailing carrying the shinai they entered the house as Tomoe spoke quietly with her father for a few moments.

Kenshin was abruptly pulled from enjoying the evening view as Enishi brushed past him into the yard; Airisu followed, running to her grandfather for a hug as Enishi spoke to Tomoe. Kenshin stepped into his shoes and crossed the yard as Yahiko and Sasuke stopped for their own sandals.

Then everyone was giving their farewells as grandfather and Enishi left – Sasuke hanging out the gate to wave at the pair disappearing down the street. Chuckling, Kenshin pulled his youngest in, and locked the gate.

Turning back to his family, he shooed the children inside to get ready for bed. Looking to Tomoe, he saw her small smile, and reached out to hold her hand as they started in.

The happiness from this moment alone was more than enough to last a lifetime, and after all they'd been through they now had a lifetime in front of them to enjoy even more moments.

Kenshin lifted his face to the dusky sky, and smiled.

* * *

So. Wow, it's done. This was a lot of fun to write overall; the times I spent an hour staring at my computer screen willing the words to come totally don't count at all. Really. Hm ... don't forget to read the last two side stories!

Interesting things I have come across while writing this:  
How to preserve carrots: http www . thriftyfun tf528586 . tip . html  
Katana first aid tips: http ejmas tin / tinart_fowler_0402 . htm  
Meiji schoolhouse: http search . japantimes . co . jp / cgi-bin / ek20040115ag . html

This story was brought to you by the song #1 Crush, the idea of Tomoe surviving the ninja attack, a rabid KxT fangirl and the uber-awesome beta sueb262. And I had a lot more to say at this point, once upon a time, but I've forgotten all of it. Sorry it took so long, but life and medical problems and moving and deaths and injury and family arguments happen, y'know?

Thanks for reading! And enjoy the next bit - I know I do :)

* * *

The little redhead dashed through the thinning crowd, ducking around corners and under outstretched arms. He'd only stopped to look at the candy display for a second - okay, maybe it was a bit longer - and when he'd turned around Airisu and Yahiko were gone!

'Well fine,' he'd thought sourly. 'If they're going back to the inn without me, then I'm going to get back first!' And thus his race had begun.

And now, his dilemma was that he should have arrived at the inn quite a while ago. His stomach growled, and his face screwed up in a scowl. It was almost time for dinner and he was starving. And certainly they were back by now.

Glancing over his shoulder, he considered his latest choice of route.

'Maybe I was supposed to go the other way at the big building and that tree ...'

Not watching his way, he ran into a solid block of muscle emerging from a store. Bouncing backward, he stumbled, one hand automatically straightening his shinai strap, the other coming up to hold his sore nose as he glared up ... and up ... and up.

The man in front of him was tall, with long hair and an even longer ugly white cape. He also carried a sword, a fact Sasuke set aside for later contemplation when he saw the man's face. It had the most peculiar expression, a touch of shock and disbelief that quickly vanished into a stuck-up look.

"It's considered proper to apologize for running into someone," said The Big Man With The Ugly Cape, adjusting a sack of groceries slung over his shoulder.

"It's 'considered proper' to apologize for hurting someone's nose," Sasuke snapped back. With a sullen pout, he began to poke at his nose, trying to assess the injury.

The man cocked an eyebrow at the poking. "I don't think it requires amputation," he remarked dryly. Sasuke spared a moment to glare at Ugly Cape - but he abandoned the glare when the man knelt in front of him. Setting down his groceries, the man took him by the shoulders and studied him intensely. Sasuke tried to shy away, but was held fast.

The man's eyes darted over him - examining his hair, his face, noting his shinai and scanning the street behind him before finally returning to Sasuke. Brow furrowing, the man asked, "How old are you, boy?"

Sasuke thought the man really wanted to ask something else, but answered anyway. "Eight."

"Bit short, aren't you," the man said absently, staring at the shinai.

Sasuke bristled. "I'll grow!"

The man focused on him, smirking. "I'm sure you will." Sasuke saw red. Before he could start yelling, the man nodded to his shinai. "What do you practice?"

Anger derailed by surprise, Sasuke blinked. "Kamiya Kasshin Ryu. And ... Father teaches us too, when he has time."

The man's hands tightened, making Sasuke wince. The man immediately removed a hand, the other keeping a loose hold that belied his harsh tone. "And what style does your Father teach, boy?"

Remembering past admonishments about things best left secret, Sasuke mumbled, "Just - a small style, you wouldn't know it." He shuffled a foot. "He mostly teaches us to help people. He's a policeman." Eyes went wide as a question occurred to him. "You have a sword. Are you a policeman too?"

The man snorted, looking mildly disgusted. "No. I refuse to pander to bureaucracy and make myself useless."

Sasuke didn't know what 'pander' meant, but he'd heard Father speak of 'bureaucracy' in the same tone, so it had to be bad. And Father definitely wasn't useless!

"Father isn't useless! He helps lots of people!" Sasuke yelled. "If you met him you wouldn't say that!"

The man's eyes were narrowed. "You might be surprised, boy."

"And my name isn't 'boy'!" Sasuke continued, drawing attention from the few people still out, "IT'S SASUKE!"

He then noticed the stares and blushed, as the man smirked at him again.

"I doubt your father -" Sasuke turned away, something catching his attention, and the man stopped talking.

"-asuke!" Came the repeat of the faint call, and Sasuke flared his ki a small bit, just like Father had taught them all.

"HERE!" He hollered, then turned to smile at the man, triumphant. "Now you'll get to meet Father, and you'll see, he's the best!"

The man's expression went curiously blank, a stern look in his eyes as he stood. He stared over Sasuke's shoulder, down the street, and Sasuke turned to see what he was looking at just as Father turned the corner.

"FATHER!" Sasuke ran over to him, throwing his little arms around grey uniform-clad legs. Father sighed.

"Sasuk-" He broke off, suddenly, and Sasuke looked up.

Was Father feeling ill? He looked so strange, like someone had hit him ...

Sasuke tugged his Father's pant leg, and finally Father spoke.

"Shishou?"


End file.
